The Monster's Mask Rewrite
by Razberri
Summary: REWRITE OF THE ORIGINAL; Madelyn wanted to melt into her seat so he couldn't see her, or break the silence with a biting remark and rid herself of the angry questions flying through her head. The only thing she knew for sure now was that he was dangerous, and that as soon as he was put into Federation custody, she never wanted to see him again. (Serious M rating; Khan/OC)
1. London Called

**_A/N: For those of you who read the original version of this story, I say kudos to you for sticking by even when I felt like it was just awful. This is the rewrite that I've been talking about for way too long and it is finally here! For those of you just joining me, welcome to the madhouse! I hope you find this story fits into some semblance of the dictionary definition of 'good.'_**

**_PS: I'm really bad at titles, so my chapter titles should be ignored. They're really just for my own amusement anyway._**

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**THE MONSTER'S MASK REWRITE**

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"You will meet a tall dark stranger and he will fuck your shit up.

We don't know why, some kind of cosmic joke.

It is terrifying how little you will be able to control yourself.

The bills will go unpaid. There will be flies in the kitchen.

A smile will insist on flirting with your lips. Too much

of a good thing will chew you up and swallow you whole.

The moon is in your house and has nothing to say

about all your nonsense. Now may be a good time to go

on a long journey. The stars think you need to clear your head.

The stars think you need to run."

- Clementine Von Radics, _Your Latest Horoscope_

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**Chapter 1 – London Called. You Shouldn't Have Answered. **

* * *

Six months before Khan Noonien Singh crashed the USS _Vengeance_ into downtown San Francisco, Madelyn McGivers decided her life was finally rediscovering a semblance of normalcy.

It was a Sunday afternoon in late August. Her high heels tapped down the corridor that led to the office space owned by her grandfather, William McGivers. Since she'd been back in London for six months now, she came here every Sunday afternoon, or at least when William bothered to come into the city. Most of the time he was content to sit at home in his easy chair, admiring the view of his garden and the farmland that surrounded his large twentieth century home. But when he did find it in his heart to attend to a few items of interest in his portfolio, he always did it with Madelyn.

She stepped into his office without glancing up from the PADD in her hand, knowing he was sitting in his usual cushioned chair, waiting for her. Today was no exception. She heard him tapping away at his own PADD, but when her heels joined the clicking that filled the room, William paused and spun around in his chair to greet her.

He was approaching eighty, but no one could ever guess his age correctly and most placed him in his sixties. He had a spark in his McGivers-green eyes that never failed to make Madelyn grin; or cringe, depending on what was coming out of his mouth. She feigned to use the word 'senile' to describe him, but there were moments when she wanted nothing more than to storm out of the room and slam doors out of sheer exasperation at his stubbornness. The worst part was she'd been told she was just like him.

"Afternoon, Maddy," he said cheerfully in his Yorkshire lilt. "I thought we might take a look at this particular ledger here, since it's of interest to an old friend of mine who's coming by soon."

Madelyn came around his desk to get a better look at the PADD he held up. Financial figures and statistics and charts and predictions made a gridlock of the screen.

"You know, we could put all of this up on a holo projector," she said, eyeing the mess that glowed in front of her. "It'd make it a lot easier to see everything laid out in the open."

"But I've got everything right where I want it. I don't need some fancy new gadget to do my work for me," William replied, his tone breaking the boundary between genial and annoyed.

Madelyn smiled and didn't bring it up again. It was worth a shot, but she knew better than to press him. Once William McGivers made his mind up about anything, there was never any changing it. She took the seat opposite her his desk. "So who's this old friend you mentioned is coming by?"

William looked up from his laptop. "Admiral Alexander Marcus. He's been a beneficiary of mine practically since he joined Starfleet. I'm sure you've heard of him. You went to school with his daughter, Carol."

When she was fifteen, Madelyn had moved to London to live with William after her father was killed suddenly in a head-on collision. She completed her education at a prestigious academy where she'd made friends with Carol Marcus, a blonde with as much of a penchant for physics as Madelyn had for historical literature. It was a given that Carol would join Starfleet, and Madelyn hadn't heard from her in years since she'd moved back to New York for college and then just recently returned to London, so it was odd to hear that Carol's father, a Starfleet Admiral, would be showing up at William's office any minute now.

William had obviously seen the shift in expression on her face and rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't worry. He's not here for some formality. He's here to catch up with me, and probably ask for more funding for some top secret project—oh, I meant to ask you earlier, but how are you doing?"

Normally this wasn't the sort of question her grandfather would ever bother with, but in this case, Madelyn knew what he meant. It was a year ago yesterday that Mark had passed away. Her faithful husband of two years, they'd met at NYU as fellow graduate students and married as soon as they could, moving to Syracuse in 2254 to teach literature together at a local high school. Six months into their marriage, Mark was diagnosed with late-stage lymphoma. After he passed away, Madelyn knew she couldn't stay in New York alone, so she returned to London to be with her grandfather. William was her last surviving blood relative and she wouldn't leave an ocean between them if she could help it.

"I'm doing okay," she said, managing a smile through her thoughts, then quickly added, "Better than I thought."

William nodded slowly, not taking his narrowed eyes off her. Madelyn knew he didn't believe her, but she didn't care. Whatever he had wanted to respond with was quickly forgotten when his attention was drawn to the door.

"Ah! Admiral so good of you to show up early!" William pushed himself out of his chair with a grunt and came around to shake the Admiral's hand, then motioned to Madelyn. "This is my granddaughter, Madelyn."

The Admiral nodded to her, then turned back to William. "I had a slight change in plans, and happened to be in your neck of the woods earlier than I planned. I hope this isn't a problem."

Madelyn instantly disliked him, but only because he glanced at her as though she was just in the way. He was tall and broad shouldered and carried himself according to his rank as one of Starfleet's top admirals, but his American-ness stood out to her the most. He clearly hadn't spent much time in England, despite the fact that his ex-wife and daughter had retained their English roots. She wondered what had even brought him to London in the first place.

"I wanted to take a look at the records you have for the Kelvin Archives," Marcus was saying. "There were some discrepancies last time that I need to keep under the radar. You understand a lot of the work I oversee is top secret. Not even the other Admirals get to know about some of these things, solely for security reasons of course."

Though William appeared to be happy to help Admiral Marcus with his financial bookkeeping, Madelyn could see on his face he was holding something back. She wasn't sure Marcus noticed, especially when he kept going on about his eventual preparations for a possible conflict with the Klingons.

"The only reason I'm telling you this is because I trust you, William," said Marcus. "The past few months have been stressful and I've just now gotten to the point where I feel like I can trust my own men. You wouldn't believe some of the threats I've had to make."

"No, I'm sure I wouldn't," William replied quietly, scrolling through a PADD before handing it to the Admiral. "Here's everything from the last month. You told me to leave these spaces blank, and against my better judgment, I did."

The Admiral nodded and studied the PADD's screen. "I've got blueprints that go far beyond the resources Starfleet has allocated to my department." He held the PADD out so William could see it, highlighting a particular line with his finger. "If we want to be able to defend ourselves from the Klingons in the near future, then I need this amount tripled by the end of the month."

William took the PADD back, scanning the highlighted line before his eyes narrowed. "To be frank, Admiral, that's an absurd amount of money. You'd do better to take out a private loan from the Bank of England than to expect Starfleet's portfolio to match that, especially by the end of the month. Do you really think the Klingons present a threat big enough to warrant this amount?"

Madelyn noticed how the Admiral's jaw tightened, his feet planting themselves firmly to the carpeted floor. "Absolutely I do. There's nothing else that concerns me more than those damn Klingons and their inability to stand down. Preemptive tactics are what's going to save us in the end."

Madelyn flinched as her grandfather slammed the PADD down on his desk, his expression tightening.

"Don't you DARE start a bloody war with the Klingons, Marcus. I swear the moment they realize what you want, they will come back at you so hard you won't even know what you've done until you and all of Starfleet are crushed, and then they'll come for the rest of us!"

The Admiral raised his eyebrows at William's sudden outburst, and glanced over at Madelyn. "You wanna help me out here… uh, Madelyn was it?"

She raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with her grandfather. She wasn't one to take sides, but in this case she had to agree with William. What the Admiral was proposing sounded like warmongering to her, but then again she wasn't a military strategist, nor was she even a member of Starfleet. She'd never met a Klingon, or seen their military in action. She'd never even been in space. But she knew her grandfather, and judging by the look on his face, he needed to calm down or his blood pressure could spike.

She gave the Admiral a tight smile and went over to take William's arm, pressing her face in close to his. "Why don't you go take a walk, granddad? I think you've been indoors long enough, and it's a beautiful day. I'm sure the Admiral didn't mean to piss you off."

"No, I'm going home," William grunted. "You can deal with the rest of this."

He curled his lip at Marcus even as Madelyn guided him out the door of his office. She paused and looked back over her shoulder at the Admiral, who was still standing in place with his arms crossed, trying to figure out what to say to William.

"Admiral Marcus, maybe you could stop by tomorrow to get these figures worked out," she called. "I might be able to help you after work, if you need me to."

She offered him an apologetic look, which he returned before pulling out his communicator.

"You're a friend of Commander Owen Gallagher, aren't you?" he asked.

Madelyn turned from watching her grandfather stride towards the lift at the end of the corridor, and approached the Admiral, considering his question. A friend, sure, within the strict definition of the word. She'd met Owen back at school when she was fifteen, and they'd run in the same circles until she returned to the states for college. When she came back to London more recently, Owen had been the first to contact her to welcome her back with overt affections that instantly made his attraction to her obvious. But she'd never been interested and wasn't about to give anyone else any ideas. It was enough that she'd barely gotten over losing Mark.

"Owen's an acquaintance of mine, yeah," she replied. "We both went to school with your daughter, actually."

The Admiral grunted. "Right. Well, I can send him over tomorrow evening to work this out. I'm sure William didn't mean anything anyway. We've always disagreed over these things. I should have known better than to bring up those things."

Madelyn nodded. "Owen knows how to contact me."

"Great, thank you, Ms. McGivers. I'll let him know." He prepared to leave the office, then paused and turned back. "Oh, and if a man by the name of John Harrison attempts to contact your grandfather, would you let me know?"

Madelyn frowned, unsure where he was going with this request. "John Harrison?" she repeated.

The name seemed to make the Admiral tense a little. "Yeah, he's one of my guys. A real smartass if you ask me, manipulative, damn intelligent too, and frankly, he's dangerous. I haven't trusted him since the day he came under my command. I've been keeping an eye on his finger into Starfleet records, and lately he's been digging into some stuff he probably shouldn't have. Your grandfather's name popped up a few days ago." He lowered his voice as he spoke. "Just let me know if he tries to make contact, for your own good. He's pretty tall, pale skin, black hair."

Madelyn raised her eyebrows and took a breath, letting it out in a nervous laugh. "Alright. Should I be watching my back?" She wasn't sure whether to be concerned or not.

The Admiral paused, considering, then shrugged. "It's just a precaution. You can't be too sure about anyone these days. Just keep in contact with me and I'm sure you'll be fine." He turned on his heel and left the office. "Thanks for your time, Ms. McGivers."

She watched him stride confidently away, and was left standing alone in her grandfather's office.

A manipulative smartass. This John Harrison guy sounded like Owen. Madelyn laughed softly, but only because the last thing she wanted was another asshole in her life. She grabbed her handbag and stuffed several PADDs inside, then headed out of the office, locking it behind her. She needed to get home and get some rest, because she had university classes to teach tomorrow.

As she stepped out of the lift on the building's ground floor, she waved to the young woman behind the front desk who was also preparing to leave for the evening. Kelly Beckett was a few years younger than Madelyn, but had grown up in Leeds and moved to London for university. She had just begun her last semester and was due to graduate come December, at which point the two women planned to get an apartment together in the city. Meanwhile, Madelyn lived with her grandfather, but only because she didn't want him to live alone at his age.

Kelly swung her handbag over her shoulder as she hurried towards Madelyn, catching her before she could exit the building. "Maddy! I meant to send a call up to William's office earlier, but when I saw that Starfleet Admiral arrive I figured I shouldn't bother him." She caught her breath as she stopped beside Madelyn. "So a man came by earlier this afternoon, before you arrived, and wanted to talk to your grandfather about something—he didn't say what. I told him William only comes 'round on Sundays, and this guy said it was urgent. So I gave him your number. He seemed really nice, a bit intense, but rather dapper if you ask me."

"Kelly, slow down," Madelyn laughed, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder. They stepped outside into the cool evening air and Kelly brushed a lock of blond hair from her face.

"Right, sorry. So I was just a bit excited about it because…" She lowered her voice and grinned. "He's really attractive, Maddy. I don't know what it is he wants to talk about, he didn't say, but if there was anyone you might be interested in—"

"Are you being serious, Kel? This guy probably just has some business with William, and you want me to ask him out on a date?"

Kelly cleared her throat. "It's been a year since you lost Mark. I just thought you might be ready for something new."

Madelyn chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. Though she appreciated her friend's insistence, she wasn't interested in having any sort of romantic relationship. She was too busy with teaching, and she frankly enjoyed it enough not to let anything else take up her time.

"Look, Kelly, I really do appreciate the idea, but it's just not something I need right now. I've got enough on my plate with school, and dating isn't high on my list of priorities."

Kelly crossed her arms. "If it's on your list at all."

Madelyn pursed her lips at Kelly's grumpy tone, but when the blonde couldn't hide her smirk, Madelyn just rolled her eyes. "You said you gave him my number. So I should be expecting a call soon—oh."

Her communicator vibrated in her purse and she dug around for it, then realized Kelly hadn't even given her a name. She flipped it open and held it to her face, giving Kelly a look when the blonde smiled mischievously.

"Hello?"

_"Ms. McGivers, my name is John Harrison. I want to speak to you concerning a matter that may involve your grandfather. I would ask you to meet me somewhere at a specific time, but it appears I don't need to. Turn to your left and look across the street."_

Madelyn blinked and did as he asked. There was a lone figure in a long grey coat holding a communicator to his face, but he was too far away for her to make out his features. The name however was too familiar. John Harrison. That had been quick. She remembered Admiral Marcus' warning, but she suddenly wanted to know more and since Kelly was with her, she decided she would pursue this entirely out of curiosity.

"I see you," she replied. The call ended abruptly as the figure crossed the street and headed straight for them. Madelyn put her communicator away and looked at Kelly. "Guess I'll get to meet him sooner than I thought."

Kelly was still smiling and didn't say anything as they went towards him. Out of instinctual courtesy, Madelyn reached out to shake his hand and John quickly took it, squeezing it until she almost winced. She had to admit he fit the Admiral's description almost too perfectly. His hair was black and slicked back from his face, and his keen blue eyes were set within a chiseled symmetrical bone structure. He was tall and fair skinned, and his broad-shouldered coat gave him an air of intimidation that Madelyn found attractive enough to understand why Kelly was still grinning like an idiot.

"I'm sure you're already aware that Admiral Marcus cannot know we've met," he said. "If he so much as suspects I'm working outside of his confidence, the consequences could be far reaching. It might be better if we went somewhere more private."

His voice was deeper in person, and Madelyn needed a second to process all of this. Meanwhile, Kelly snagged her shirtsleeve. "You don't need me anymore, Maddy, right? I'll just head home."

Madelyn opened her mouth to protest as her friend turned swiftly on her heel and waltzed across the plaza into the evening dusk.

"Call me later!" Kelly called over her shoulder.

Madelyn stared after her for a moment, then turned back to John and offered him a polite smile. "So my grandfather only comes into the city on Sundays and he's already gone home. Sorry I have to be the middleman here."

"It's not a problem. I've already spoken with him, but you may be more helpful. He wasn't exactly what you might call friendly."

Madelyn tried to restrain the smile that played at the corners of her mouth. "Well, Admiral Marcus may have unintentionally pissed him off." She found herself laughing through her words. "But William's always had an attitude." She glanced around at the mostly empty downtown plaza and suddenly realized she was alone with a strange man whom the Admiral had warned her was manipulative and dangerous. "Why don't we head over to that restaurant across the street so we're not just standing out here in the dark?"

John nodded and immediately started in that direction. Madelyn had to walk faster to keep up with his long strides, channeling her nerves through the fist that gripped the handle of her shoulder bag. She knew she needed to keep her guard up, but at the same time, she knew it was no coincidence that he had shown up so soon after Admiral Marcus had paid her grandfather a visit, and she wondered what those "consequences" might be that John had mentioned.

She decided she wouldn't trust either the Admiral or John, but at least she could attempt to have a civil conversation with the latter, in hopes of understanding what the Admiral meant by him being manipulative and dangerous. John had already outsmarted her by finding her so quickly, and that alone was enough to rattle her.

* * *

To Madelyn's quiet relief, the restaurant was busy for a Sunday night. She ordered a salad and thought it odd that John hadn't even glanced at his menu, then decided he must have already eaten, until she realized his attention was completely focused on her. She suddenly felt sympathy for any bug who had ever been trapped underneath the lens of a microscope, but when she met his gaze while she ate, she noticed his expression had softened, though it as still quite unreadable.

"So I'm guessing you want to talk to me because you didn't get anywhere with my grandfather," she said.

"Yes, I should have been more clear. I'm not accustomed to having people throw their middle fingers up in my face, but I assumed there was more to his outrage as I had barely begun to ask him questions."

Madelyn bit her bottom lip in a failed attempt to restrain her grin. William never failed to show people how he really felt, whether his temper had anything to do with them or not. And she was unfortunately used to apologizing for him.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that. Sometimes he tries to make a point about not being professional, but I think it's just his age." She laughed softly. "Don't quote me on that, though. You might receive more than a middle finger to the face next time. So, what would you like to know, Mr. Harrison?"

"Please, call me John."

His expression told her he was amused by her commentary on her grandfather, and she decided she liked the fact that he preferred going by his first name.

"Alright, John, what sort of questions do you have that earned you the bird from my grandfather?"

"To be frank, Ms. McGivers—"

"Madelyn." She smiled at the way he considered her interruption.

"Madelyn. I want to know about your family, particularly your mother, your grandfather, and anyone else who bore the last name of McGivers."

She thought the request was strange, but kept her expression light. "Why?"

"If I told you why, there is a chance your life could be threatened."

Madelyn bit down on a slice of tomato as he spoke, and chewed quietly for a moment, eyeing him carefully. That wasn't something she'd expected to hear.

"Threatened how?"

"That's not important."

"Well I'm not sure I can tell you anything if you can't tell me why you need to know it," she said slowly.

John's expression seemed to withdraw, his eyes hardening for a split second, long enough for Madelyn to realize that whatever it was he was hiding, he was never going to divulge it.

"Look, John, there isn't a lot to my family anyway," she added quickly, not wanting things to grow awkward. "What little there is to know is probably public record."

"Then save me the trouble."

She was slightly taken aback at his bluntness, but saw no reason to do otherwise. "Well, my grandfather never talks about his parents, so I don't even know their names. I don't have any siblings, or aunts or uncles or cousins. My dad died when I was fifteen, and he was an only child. Now it's just me and William."

"What about your mother?"

"She died giving birth to me. I never knew her."

Madelyn watched the information she'd just revealed filter over his face, and it was as though he'd realized something and tucked it away. All of that was information she might share with anyone; it wasn't sensitive or private, and yet the look on John's face told her it meant a lot more than she realized.

She swallowed when it hit her that he might not really be interested in her family, but rather her family's money. After all, William was one of Admiral Marcus' wealthiest benefactors. If this man worked for Marcus, then he could have found out about William's copious funding and—

"I'm not after your family's wealth," said John with a slight smile. Madelyn snapped back to the present, realizing her suspicion must have spread all over her face, and that this guy was excellent at reading people. "Although others might be. And if what you said is true, then it would be a simple matter for someone with enough resources at their disposal to get both you and your grandfather out of their way."

Madelyn frowned, the suspicion that she was being manipulated creeping into the back of her mind. But he had a point. Still, even if someone was looking to take everything William had worked all his life to acquire, that didn't explain why John wanted to know about her family. Not that she had much left to tell him. It also didn't explain why William had gotten so angry when John had talked to him. Admiral Marcus had started the fire, but a few questions about the McGivers family couldn't possibly have fanned those flames, not even for someone like her grandfather.

John's rich voice dragged her from her thoughts. "There's nothing else you can tell me about your mother? Anything your grandfather might have told you?"

She shrugged. "I'll tell you everything I know. Her name was Susan. She was a champion marathoner, graduated from Princeton summa cum laude with a double major in Philosophy and Astrophysics. She went on to join Starfleet before she got married. I guess you could say she won at life, until she had me. That's literally everything I know about her, and I'm pretty sure you could easily find all that out by making a few phone calls." She leaned back in her seat, crossing arms. "Look, I honestly don't know what it is you want, but I don't think any of this is going to help you."

His questions were bothering her to say the least. What the hell did her mother have to do with anything? The only things Madelyn knew about her, she'd learned from William, who was Susan's father, and she'd just told John all of it. There were photographs of Susan scattered throughout the McGivers home outside London, so she knew she took after her mother's physical features, with wavy brown hair, green eyes speckled with brown, and a plain heart-shaped face. All of that was probably the large, unspoken reason William had agreed to let her live with him after Mark's passing, because she reminded him of his only child.

"No, Madelyn, you have been extremely helpful. Thank you."

She opened her mouth, prepared to utter something akin to a confused 'you're welcome,' when her communicator chimed. "Oh, sorry." She looked at the id to see it was her grandfather, then glanced up apologetically at John. "I should take this." She held the device up to her ear. "What's up?"

_"Where are you, Maddy? I thought you'd be home by now."_

She glanced at John again, frowning a little at the tone in her grandfather's voice. Something wasn't right. "I went out to dinner." Then quickly added, "With a friend."

_"Does that friend happen to be named John Harrison? Listen, whatever you do, don't tell him anything about your mother. There's a reason I haven't told you much about our family, Maddy, and it's—"_

The line was cut off and replaced by a solid tone. "William?" Madelyn lowered her communicator to look at it and make sure it hadn't died. It was working fine. "Granddad? Hello?"

She'd just bought him a new communicator last week so that couldn't have been the problem. She redialed and waited for the connection to be made, but the dial tone told her the line no longer existed.

"The line's dead," she said, staring at the device in her hand. No, something was terribly wrong. She looked up at John again, whose face had gone hard. "I should go home and check on him." She stood from the table and shouldered her purse. "I'm sorry for wasting your time. I'm sure you have other things you need to do."

She turned to leave the establishment but stopped when she felt a firm hand wrap around her arm. She looked up to see that John had followed her, but his hand left her arm as soon as they made eye contact. "You shouldn't go alone," he said.

Madelyn didn't reply. She didn't need to. She saw the look in his eye, the same one that told her he wasn't going to explain himself. Unsure at this point what was even happening, she turned again and proceeded outside towards the underground car park several blocks away where her vehicle was stowed, with John Harrison close behind.

* * *

To Madelyn, going home was like stepping back in time.

William McGivers' home was half an hour outside of London. The city had sprawled far from the Thames in the past couple of centuries, and now this house, which would have been considered a country mansion when it was first built back in the late 1990s, was merely a large antique with a healthy view of the city and the surrounding countryside.

As Madelyn drove her hovercar along the road that wound uphill towards the house, she felt her stomach twist into a knot. Her grandfather's car was in the driveway, but the house was completely dark.

"Oh god, something's not right at all."

She hurriedly stepped out of the car, ignoring John's suggestion to wait, and started towards the door in the side of the house that led into the kitchen. She stopped as her hand fell to the handle. It was unlocked and the door was slightly ajar.

She heard John come up behind her and hesitantly showed him the door without a word. She realized that if there was an intruder in the house, it would be better to let him go first, rather than risk herself being attacked, especially if this had anything to do with John's earlier warning.

She followed closely behind him, her eyes flitting to every dark corner. John crossed to the opposite end of the room, then turned and commanded the lights to turn on. The kitchen and its adjoining breakfast nook were illuminated, and a quick sweep with her eyes told Madelyn everything was where it was supposed to be. That didn't negate the fact that the door had been left open.

The silence in the house was crushing. She wanted to call out her grandfather's name, but she knew that was a bad idea if there was still someone lurking in the darkness. She followed John as he went into the next room, the living room, but had to stop suddenly to keep from walking into his back.

"What is it?" Madelyn whispered.

"You won't want to see this," he replied.

She felt the knot in her stomach tighten.

John turned and brushed past her back through the kitchen. "Call the police. There's nothing I can do here."

She watched him go, then turned back to the living room. In the ambient light coming from the kitchen, she could make out distinct signs of a struggle nearby. A lamp laying sideways on the floor, a shattered pane of glass that once belonged to a large picture hanging on the wall. She walked carefully into the room, her breath catching in her throat when she came around the couch. Her grandfather's body lay in a puddle of blood on the floor, his neck and torso covered in it, his shirt soaked. It looked as though his throat had been deliberately slit.

Madelyn felt her stomach turn and tore her eyes from the scene, clenching her jaw at the bile that rose in her throat. With shaking hands, she dug her communicator out of her bag, backing away until she bumped up against the kitchen counter. She found herself sinking to the floor, unable to form a proper sentence to the emergency operator for several minutes. She was reassured that the police were coming, and there was nothing else she could do but wait.

She couldn't bear to let William's body linger in her line of sight. He was dead. Her grandfather was dead. She crawled across the kitchen and pulled herself up into a chair in the breakfast nook. Her communicator sitting silent on the table, she buried her face in her hands.

* * *

**_You can read more fabulous poetry by Clementine Von Radics on her tumblr (her url is her name without spaces, this website won't let me post a link...)_**

**_You should also check out her book of poems, As Often As Miracles, available through Where Are You Press_**

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**_I hope you enjoyed it so far! I'm looking forward to reading your reviews. I want feedback and most importantly I want to know that you want to read more!_**


	2. Hypostasis

_**A/N: Hello! So I was originally planning on waiting a full week to post the next chapter, but I also know the story needs to move along a bit for new readers coming onboard, so I decided to go ahead and post this! Thanks so much for all your reviews and follows so far, it was more than expected, though some of you are coming from the first installment of the story so it's good to see you all back! Okay enough from me. Enjoy reading :)**_

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Hypostasis **

* * *

Madelyn jumped at the knock on the front door even though she'd been expecting it. Red and blue lights flashed outside and she quickly went to let the officers inside. She wasn't even crying. She should have been crying, right? All she felt was numb.

She was instructed to return to the kitchen where she sat hunched over at the table with a mug of hot tea. A female officer approached her, introducing herself only as Charlotte, and asked her a few questions until she appeared satisfied that Madelyn was alright, then Madelyn was left alone for a while.

All she could think was why? Who would want him dead? What had William ever done to anyone to deserve such an awful and horrific death?

She barely sipped at her tea as her conversation with John Harrison slid back into her thoughts. Could he have been wrong? Could it have been someone who wanted William's money? Would they come after her next? Was she even safe to go outside?

The sudden pang of fear that struck her was barely overshadowed by the weight of what had happened, though her thoughts refused to fully process everything. The knowledge was enough to handle, but her emotions refused to cooperate. William had been the center of her life for almost a year, a familiar pillar she could go to for anything. And he had been her last surviving family member.

It seemed her family was plagued by death, and she was the last one standing.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. The remainder of the house was scoured for evidence, while Madelyn answered a few questions about where she'd been, and what William had been up to recently. By eleven o'clock, his body was finally taken from the living room. He'd been murdered, concluded the lead investigator, but that had been obvious to Madelyn from the start.

Charlotte came over again and asked her if she had another place to stay that night. Madelyn remembered Kelly had asked her to call, so she did, and told her everything. The officer strongly advised her to stay at Kelly's for at least several days and guided her upstairs so she could pack a bag. When they came down again a little while later, John was back, standing in the kitchen and having a few words with one of the other officers. Madelyn noticed he'd changed his shirt and wasn't wearing his coat, but didn't think on it further as she was guided towards the door, a stuffed duffle bag slung over her shoulder. She paused beside him, hesitant to speak until she saw the softness in his face.

"I'll be staying at my friend Kelly's for a while."

Compared to his steeled expression, his voice was surprisingly quiet. "Good. You shouldn't be alone."

Madelyn had only just met him and yet in that moment she sensed that he was capable of caring immensely, even though he may not have shown it. She didn't have the will to say anything else in return, so she turned and followed Charlotte out the door.

"Madelyn."

She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder.

"If you need anything, you have my number."

She offered him a slight smile, then headed out the door to catch up with Charlotte.

The way he had said it made her feel that much more secure, despite the fact that she'd only met him that evening.

Whoever this dangerous, manipulative smartass was that Admiral Marcus had warned her about, John wasn't him.

* * *

Kelly welcomed Madelyn into her college flat with open arms, but Madelyn wanted nothing more than to go to sleep without a word to her friend. She crashed on the couch and wrapped herself in a blanket, and when she woke up with the sun pouring onto her face, the only reason she bothered to get up was because the smell of coffee was hard to resist.

Almost the second she raised the mug of brown liquid to her lips, she remembered it was Monday, the start of the university's second week of classes, and she had to teach today. Suddenly she didn't even want her coffee and went to fish her communicator out of her bag. She glanced at the time. She'd slept practically all morning and her headache proved it.

The head of her department, an older Nigerian woman named Naomi, quickly reassured Madelyn that Kelly had called earlier that morning to explain what was going on, and Madelyn's classes would be taught by a substitute until she was one hundred percent ready to return to work. Madelyn thanked Naomi wholeheartedly, and promised to be back by next week. Nevertheless, Naomi told her to take her time, that the process of grieving could be a long one, and not to forget about the possible occurrence of a court case should William's murderer be caught. Madelyn groaned at this revelation, but ended the call grateful that she wouldn't have to deal with the pressure of returning to work anytime soon.

Slipping her communicator into her pocket, she was suddenly overwhelmed with the fact that her grandfather was gone. She took up her warm mug of coffee and returned to the couch, where she curled up into a blanket and flipped on the television. She surfed through channels for a while, pausing on the local midday news, where they were covering the discovery of a man's body in a ditch outside of London. Madelyn about choked on her coffee when several photographs of the crime scene flashed onscreen. The man's body had been brutally broken, his head twisted around and his neck bent in an unnatural position. She quickly turned off the television, unable to shake the image of William's corpse from her mind. The only difference was William's throat had been deliberately slit, a barbaric and painful way to die compared to the quick and neat death of having one's neck snapped.

Madelyn shivered at the thoughts racing through her head, flinching suddenly as she felt her communicator buzzing in her pocket. Noticing the caller id, she hesitated to answer it, but she knew Owen would get mad if she didn't.

With a sigh, she picked it up and held it open. "Hey, Owen." She quickly cleared her throat when she heard how tired she sounded.

_"Maddy, I am so sorry about your grandfather. You don't sound good. I could come over—"_

"No, you don't need to come over, Owen. I just woke up anyway."

It wasn't that at all, but she had no problem with lying to him. She simply didn't want him to come over. He would only try to coddle her in the most overbearing sort of way that would only make her feel worse about refusing to reciprocate his feelings.

_"Where are you?"_ he asked quickly.

She paused, considering he probably knew the location of Kelly's dorm. "At a friend's," she replied blandly.

_"You sure you don't want me to come over?"_

"I'm sure." God, he sounded desperate. She breathed a heavy sigh. She needed to placate him somehow. "But there is something you could help me out with, if you don't mind."

_"I'll do anything,"_ he replied.

She had to smile at that. So predictable. "We'll want to start preparing for the funeral, I guess. Maybe you could get some things together for a presentation on his life or something. God knows there'll be a lot of important people at the funeral. I'll get to work on the obituary."

_"Absolutely. I'll stop by your house. They'll let me in, right? Even if it's taped off?"_

She swallowed. "Just avoid the living room and you'll be fine."

_"Right, of course. Listen, if you need anything, you know how to contact me."_

"I know, Owen. Thanks."

_"Anytime, Maddy."_

The call ended and Madelyn leaned her head back against the couch. Getting Owen to help her was easy, but getting him to stay out of her hair in the future was going to get increasingly harder now that William was gone. She felt her throat tighten up and tears prick her eyes. She would have to go back to the house outside London eventually. Working furiously on her lower lip, she pushed her blanket away and clambered off the couch. At least in the shower she could cry without making a scene in case Kelly came home.

* * *

Feeling more refreshed and awake after standing in the hot spray, Madelyn ruffled her dripping hair with a towel as she walked barefoot across the room to where her duffle was stacked on top of a storage cabinet. Her communicator buzzed periodically on the couch and she went over to glance at it. There was one voice message from an unknown number. She sighed. Insurance had probably already gotten wind of everything. She'd call them back later. For now she needed to get a start on that damn obituary. It was the least she could do to recall each and every thing her grandfather had done in his life that had made an impression on her, on Starfleet, and on society in general.

She grabbed some fruit for a very late brunch and spent the next several hours sitting in various places around Kelly's dorm writing, using the old fashioned technique of pen and paper because there was something more personal about that which she preferred. Maybe it was the instant connection between her brain and her hand and the words on the page that she liked, that made the words on the page breathe with more life than if they had been pixels on a PADD. She made a mental note to have her students do some writing by hand once she went back to the university. She imagined she'd get some complaints, but she knew the results would be worth it.

By three o' clock in the afternoon, she was satisfied with the overall obituary and set about counting the words. She laughed out loud at the final count. That was going to be one expensive column in the Telegraph. Shrugging, because she knew her grandfather had left a copious amount of money behind to her name, she settled into a cushioned chair at Kelly's tiny breakfast table and began typing the document into her PADD.

She glanced up when she heard the front door to the apartment open, but had to make a second take when John Harrison walked in behind Kelly. The blonde looked a little flustered, and Madelyn wondered what had transpired between them that had led to Kelly's agreeing to bring him straight inside her flat.

"He followed me home, Maddy. I was about ready to stun him, but he said you hadn't returned his call so I got a little worried."

Madelyn glanced at John as Kelly tossed her bag onto a table by the door and disappeared into her bedroom. Then she remembered the voice message on her communicator, and realized the number must have been John's. She hadn't added him to her contacts yet.

"I guess I should have listened to your message," she offered apologetically. "Sorry."

He didn't seem bothered. "I shouldn't have been so quick to contact you. You appear to be prepared to stay in for the day."

Madelyn suddenly felt self-conscious as he crossed the room. Not that she felt she needed to look pulled together for any reason, but she couldn't help but wonder what was going through his head as his eyes swept over her. Obviously his comment was directed at the way she was dressed. She wore a baggy teal t-shirt with black leggings, and no bra because she hadn't been expecting anyone but Kelly to turn up. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, but at least it was clean. She crossed her arms instinctively over her chest and focused her gaze back on her PADD as John came over and looked curiously down at what was on the screen.

"That is a rather long obituary," he remarked. Madelyn looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, partially because he'd pointed out something painfully obvious. He met her gaze as the corner of his mouth lifted, and she looked away.

"My grandfather was a very accomplished man, though he would never talk about it," she said, returning her gaze to the handwritten obituary she was transcribing onto her PADD. "I want people to know—specifically the people he worked with—that he was more than just a senile old man with a temperament and a generous streak. Starfleet probably wouldn't be what it is today without his contributions."

John didn't reply and Madelyn glanced up to see him open her communicator and tap a few buttons. A tinny version of his voice emanated from the small speakers.

_"Though you may already be aware, the man responsible for your grandfather's murder was found dead in a ditch outside London this morning. The authorities have been unable to identify him due to the state of his face and skull, however I ran a few tests and a DNA match confirmed that he worked for Admiral Marcus. In fact he was one of the Admiral's top commanders up until last night. I thought you would want to know this, since Starfleet has not been willing to divulge this information to the media."_

There was a pregnant pause in the message. John took a seat across the table from her as it continued.

_"You need to be careful, Madelyn. There are things happening here outside of my control. I can only offer you my support, and should you need it, my protection. However my work will periodically take me off-world and I won't be able to stay in contact with you at all times. Call me back when you get this message."_

She waited a moment to respond, letting the information in his message sink in. The way he was looking at her made her uncomfortable and she shifted, dropping her eyes back to her work.

"Did you mean that?" she asked.

John put her communicator on the table in front of her. "The people I work for cannot be trusted. I can't be sure who ordered the hit, but it's become clear to me that someone in Starfleet was unhappy with my contact with William."

Madelyn felt her features betraying a sense of horror. "What you're saying is if you hadn't talked to him, he'd still be alive. That could put me next on their list."

"I promise you it will not come to that."

The fierceness in his voice made her hesitate to retort. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that someone wouldn't break into Kelly's flat in the middle of the night and slice her throat open like her grandfather's, that he could somehow stop that.

She'd barely known him for twenty-four hours, and in that short space of time, her grandfather had been murdered and suddenly it was her life that was now in jeopardy. How could this man even pretend to promise her that she'd be safe? And why was he blaming himself?

She clenched her teeth together and dropped her gaze down to her PADD to keep her tears at bay. "How am I supposed to feel safe if Starfleet is putting hits out on their own benefactors?" she asked quietly, her voice betraying the emotion that welled up inside her. "And since when does Starfleet order assassinations in the first place? The money in my bank account belonged to William. If that's what Starfleet is after—"

"I can assure you it is not about money," John interrupted.

"Then what is it about?" she exclaimed. She was unwilling to accept the idea that she would never know what her grandfather died for.

"It's a complicated thing, but if I told you the truth, I would only be putting many more lives at risk, including yours, and I cannot do that."

She saw the way his jaw tightened and nostrils flared as he spoke, and suddenly she realized that maybe she was being a little selfish, that maybe there was more going on than she suspected and it would be better to slow down and wait and see how things played out. But she just couldn't shake the feeling that the thing she wanted to know was right on the tip of John's tongue and he simply refused to tell her.

And the worst thing was that maybe he was right.

She leaned back in her chair and ran her fingers through her hair with a long sigh. Kelly came out of her room at that moment and paused, looking between the two of them. "I'm heading out for dinner and movie with a few mates. I don't 'spose you want to come along, Maddy?"

Madelyn considered it, but her head felt heavy as her mind whirled through all the things John had said just now and in his message.

"No, you go ahead, Kel. I'm staying in tonight." She returned her friend's smile and watched the blonde head out the door. When Kelly was gone, Madelyn straightened and looked at John. "My being here isn't putting her in danger is it?"

"No, I wouldn't worry about her," he replied.

The confidence in his face and voice was somewhat reassuring, but Madelyn reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose anyway. "After the funeral, maybe I should get out of town for a little. William had a house down near the coast in Hastings. I bet I could convince the university to let me off for a few more weeks."

John nodded. "Stay out of London until things calm down. I may be able to find the ones responsible for this, but I can't confirm that they won't come after you. However, assuming you don't intend to cut off Admiral Marcus' monetary requests…"

Madelyn raised an eyebrow at the way he ended the sentence with the suggestion that he was all for the money to keep pouring in every month. She knew her grandfather had put several thousand every few weeks into a fund that he had created specifically for Marcus, but she had no idea what the money was actually used for.

"Is that what they're all talking about now? Losing the money?"

John lowered his voice, as though the subject was particularly sensitive. "Marcus has seemed more on edge since yesterday, yes. Which is also why I don't believe he is directly responsible. He would never order the assassination of someone who keeps his coffers full."

Madelyn nodded slowly. "It wouldn't effect me if the fund was kept alive for the next several decades. Though it'd be nice to know what it's being used for."

Another faint smile slipped through John's cool facade. "If I told you that, I would have to kill you."

Madelyn let herself match his look. "Let me guess, Admiral Marcus is building himself an army of self-aware androids armed with phaser cannons."

She knew Marcus wanted to slowly militarize Starfleet. He'd had the argument countless times before with William, but at the moment she needed to make sarcastic remarks if only to remind herself that her life wasn't totally over.

"No," John replied, dipping his chin in a failed attempt to restrain his amusement. Madelyn's smile widened slightly when she saw the look.

"Then I guess I'll just never need to know where the money is going."

But that was the only thing she didn't need to know. Everything else was far too important, like who had ordered the hit on her grandfather, and who had then killed the assassin? Why was it that she could indirectly blame John for this turn of events? He had even admitted to that and yet he wanted to protect her, but in order to protect her, he couldn't give her the answers to any of those questions in the first place.

It was an insufferable conundrum she found herself in, only slightly placated by the softness with which he was now looking at her.

"Do you want to go out to dinner?" she asked, feeling a sudden desire to understand this man who had stepped so quickly into her life at the very moment she needed someone the most.

She registered the faint surprise on his face by the way his eyebrows rose just slightly. Regretting her sudden impulse to ask out a practical stranger, she took her upper lip between her teeth and rapped her fingers on the tabletop, letting the awkwardness show on her face. "Nevermind, I shouldn't have even said that."

"I appreciate the thought," he replied quickly. "However I don't think it would be wise for us to be seen together in public by anyone in Starfleet."

Madelyn nodded, grateful he took her impulsive suggestion and her realization of said suggestion without offense. "Yeah, sorry, I don't know what I was thinking." She ran her fingers through her hair. "You probably weren't planning on staying long anyway."

"No. And I would've had no need to come over in the first place had you returned my call."

"I'll be sure to do that next time. I'm sure you need to get back to work."

John stood from the table and nodded, pulling his hands behind his back. "You will contact me if anything happens."

It was more of a command than a suggestion, but Madelyn nodded. "Don't worry about me. I'll be busy preparing for the funeral, so I definitely won't be alone for the next few days."

"Oh?"

"My friend Owen Gallagher is helping me out. He's in Starfleet under Admiral Marcus." She hesitated. John seemed to have stiffened at her mention of Owen. "Do you know him?"

"Commander Owen Gallagher. Yes, I know of him. From the small amount of time I've spent around him, I've learned he's brash, ineffective, and completely obsessed with you. Now that I've met you, I'm wondering why you keep him around at all."

"Well, he's my friend," she replied, hoping he could at least understand that. "And I don't share the feelings he has for me, despite what he might say. But he's supportive, and right now I need him."

John was silent for a moment, letting his eyes flit over her face before he pulled his communicator from his coat pocket. "I have several duties to attend to before I go off-world with Marcus next week. I may or may not see you again before then."

Madelyn stood and walked with him to the apartment's door. "I don't have any expectations. It sounds to me like the less we're together, the better off I'll be. But I'm glad to have met you."

John didn't say anything as he stepped outside, his gaze passing over his surroundings before returning to meet hers.

"Just let me know if you learn anything new about William's death," she said quietly. "I don't think I'm going to get the truth from anyone else but you."

"I will."

That was all he said before he turned and went away down the corridor with long strides. She watched him until he disappeared around the corner, and then she pulled herself back inside and shut the door quietly.

Despite the information he had relayed to her, John gave her a sense of stability that she hadn't felt in a long while, not since she'd lost Mark. It wasn't that he was a confident masculine male, or that she was attracted to him (which she was starting to admit to herself that she might be, though he was the sort of attractive that anyone could easily fall for, she told herself), but it was his countenance, the way he conducted himself, and the way he seemed to have a firm grasp on everything he said. He didn't mince words, but he didn't keep her guessing either.

Madelyn hadn't known many people who could present themselves to the world in such a self-possessed, coolheaded manner, and without coming across as overtly arrogant. John was merely knowledgeable and assertive, and as a result Madelyn saw no reason to alert Admiral Marcus to his entrance into her life, especially not with what had happened.

If anything, she decided she could trust John Harrison far more than either the Admiral or even Owen, and that quickly pushed John towards the top of her short list of people who she felt comfortable around. For now, she decided there was no harm in letting a new person into her life, and though that didn't mean she had to open up to him, at least she knew she could confide in him if something happened.

* * *

**_Alrighty, that's all for the week! Please review and give me feedback if you feel so inclined! I must know how you all feel about this rehash!_**


	3. Departures

**_A/N: I just want to say a quick thank you to those of you who've reviewed so far: _Yuna-Sakura, KnoKnayme, TheGirlWhoWaited, Poodle warriors, Sorceress of the Trees, MoonDrop162, CLTex, ZabuzasGirl, MaltWarrior, DatinSatan, and Benedict'sZombieGirl_, as well as guests. I really do value any feedback I get, although I know this is a rewrite and to some of you probably couldn't be more perfect. That said, thanks again for taking the time to at least confirm that I'm not totally screwing this story up yet! The moment you catch something off, feel free to let me know XD_**

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Departures**

* * *

The funeral was scheduled for Saturday. Madelyn made plans to meet with Owen at a coffee shop on Thursday to discuss the material he'd put together about William's life, but he canceled on her at the last minute and asked her to meet him at her house instead. She hadn't returned to the house all week, wanting to avoid the crime scene, but she supposed now was as good a time as any.

Owen had planted himself in her grandfather's study on the opposite end of the house from the living room, so it wasn't hard for her to avoid ground zero when she came inside the front door. She could see it though, and there was a large stain in the floor where there had once been a puddle of blood. She tore her gaze from it and hurried down the hall to the study, not exactly excited to see Owen but also not wanting to feel as though she was letting William down with a lackluster presentation that was supposed to cover his entire life.

As soon as she appeared in the study's doorway, Owen stepped lightly around the large antique desk and spread his arms to offer her a hug. "It's so good to see you, Maddy." He was grinning a perfect white smile. He'd always reminded her of Mark, especially with his curly blond hair and glittering blue eyes, but he was taller. Of course, at five foot four, practically everyone was taller than her.

She couldn't refuse him the hug, but pursed her lips at the way he tightened his arms around her shoulders. When he finally let her go, he took her arms before she could step around him. "I am profoundly sorry," he said. "William's going to be missed for a long time."

"Thanks, Owen," she said, turning her gaze to the collection of PADDs scattered across the desk behind him. "How's it coming?"

Owen turned and quickly began scrolling through one of the PADDs to show her a basic outline of what he was putting together. After Madelyn had read through it and approved, she went around to the opposite side of the desk to shuffle through a pile of old photographs, some of them printed on older paper that showed signs of aging. "Will you be adding any of these?" she asked.

Owen nodded. "I'm going to scan each photo into the main file so they can be flashed up on a screen. I think they'll give the whole thing a sense of time, so that people can see who he was at heart."

Madelyn agreed. It was looking good. The photos Owen had chosen were varied, depicting William at various points in his life, around the world and in space. He'd served both in the British Armed Forces and with Starfleet, and then he'd gotten married and had one daughter, Madelyn's mother, before he made the leap into investing.

One photo in particular caught her eye and she picked it up carefully to get a better look at it. It was a picture of her and her grandfather out on his boat on a bright, sunny day. William was presenting his latest catch to the camera, his hand resting on her shoulder while she stood there grinning madly, her skinny arms propped on her hips, her long brown hair whipping through the wind. She must have been no older than eleven or twelve. She bit her bottom lip at the way her grandfather looked exactly as he had just last week, with shining eyes and an upright frame. Her throat tightened up and she instinctively reached up to wipe a tear from her eye.

"Maddy, you alright?"

She regained her composure quickly to avoid being sacked by Owen, and held up the photograph. "I'm taking this one."

He shrugged, grinning again. "You can do whatever you want with it. It's your house."

She nodded, realizing that maybe she didn't feel at home here anymore as much as she used to. Maybe it was the way Owen had made _himself_ at home here, or the maybe it was the elephant in the room, the fact that William's murder had occurred just down the hall and neither of them wanted to mention it.

Madelyn looked down at the photo in her hand again. It was printed on yellowing paper and needed protection. She picked up an empty folder sitting nearby and carefully slid the photo inside, sealing it shut before sliding it into her purse. She'd have to find somewhere to take it to get it properly framed between panes of glass so it would last for many more years to come.

She lingered in the study for a while, helping Owen reorganize the contents of their presentation for seamlessness so at least the people who attended the funeral wouldn't be put off by how quickly they had thrown it together. By mid-afternoon, Owen had sunk into William's big leather chair, his feet propped up on the desk as he scrolled through a PADD with little intention of accomplishing anything else. Madelyn felt the same way he looked, eventually sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, digging aimlessly through a box full of books and PADDs of varying sizes. She tried to log into one particularly older looking PADD, but after multiple tries at the passcode she gave up. William wouldn't have written his passcodes down anywhere either, so there was no point in looking for them.

She glanced up at Owen, whose uninterested expression towards whatever was on the screen of his own PADD made her realize how long they'd been sitting there in the study, doing next to nothing.

After a moment, her voice broke the easy silence. "Are you taking off time from work to be here?"

Owen glanced at her over the top of his PADD. "Actually I'm working now." He held up the device in his hand, briefly flashing the screen but too quickly for Madelyn to see what was on it.

She didn't reply. If he was really making himself comfortable enough here to be dealing with whatever assignment Starfleet had given him while lounging in her grandfather's chair, she wondered if he even intended to leave for the evening. If that was the case, she didn't want to stick around. She was irked that she was letting him passively kick her out of her own home, even though that wasn't his intention at all, but Madelyn wasn't going to let him have his way by sharing the house with him. Still, she didn't want to hurt him either and resolved to reach a silent compromise with herself.

She could make up a story about how she was going out with Kelly that evening and would probably be back late, and therefore she could just crash at Kelly's apartment again. She still had things to collect at Kelly's, so it wouldn't be strange for her to stay one more night there. But that would just open up the opportunity for Owen to invite himself out with them.

She sighed. What had once been a simple matter of only spending so much time with him in order to cement the limits of their friendship had been exasperated by the funeral and the planning that needed to go into it. She was extremely grateful that he was helping her out, but at the same time she needed a break from him, especially now that he thought he could be with her more often since William was gone. She just needed to get past the funeral so she could get out of town for a while to clear her head.

She stood from the floor, picking up the box of books and PADDs as she did. Despite its size, it wasn't as heavy as she'd expected. "I'm gonna head back to Kelly's, pick up some things and run some errands. If I don't see you tomorrow, I'll see you Saturday morning at the chapel, right?"

Owen looked up from his work again, then swiftly moved from the chair to her side, his fingers sliding around the box to take it from her. His signature smile made her roll her eyes.

"I've got it, Owen. It's not that heavy."

But he insisted and grunted as he braced the load in both of his arms. Madelyn frowned, partially confused that he was struggling under the weight of the box more than she had.

"You don't have to do that," she persisted.

He kept smiling despite his obvious struggle to appear relaxed while carrying such a heavy box. He nodded towards the door. "I'm good, come on."

Madelyn just shook her head and headed out of the house, Owen's heavy steps behind her. Was that box really that heavy? She'd barely made an effort to pick it up herself, and her upper body strength was miniscule compared to Owen's, not to mention he was quite larger than her anyway.

She held the back hatch of her car open so he could set it down with a thud, and when he straightened he seemed to let out a breath, as though he'd strained himself. Madelyn bit her tongue to keep herself from making a snarky comment and instead gave him a light hug before climbing into the driver's seat.

"Don't feel like you have to say any words on Saturday," he said.

She tried to smile. "I wasn't planning on it. I figure all of those photographs will speak for themselves."

Owen nodded, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Call me tomorrow if you need anymore help with anything."

She smiled up at him as the door slid shut, and he waved when she pulled away. Madelyn was more relieved when she couldn't see him anymore.

She shook her head at herself. She wanted to preserve her friendship with him, but if he kept this up, she was going to have to confront him and potentially lose him altogether. Maybe after she'd spent some time down in Hastings, she would come back to find Owen not as pursuant of her. But there was also the possibility that her absence would egg him on even more. She needed her grandfather to be there to tell her what to say, or to get in Owen's face and tell him to back off. She needed him there to give her a reassuring hug and tell her it was going to be okay. She dug her nails into the steering wheel as tears pricked her eyes, her throat tightening up as she realized all over again that he was gone.

She fought to contain herself all the way into London, but as she pulled her car into the darkness of underground car park down the street from Kelly's place, the silence that crowded around her became too much. She let lose the flood that she'd been holding back for days and buried her face in her hand, soaking her palm with saltwater. Her breaths escaped in strangled bursts between sobs. When she'd calmed herself, there was still a physical ache in her chest, begging to be consoled by someone that wasn't there anymore.

* * *

The day of the funeral heralded the beginning of autumn. Madelyn pulled her black leather jacket more tightly around herself as a cool breeze swirled down the hillside of the cemetery. The graveside service had drawn to a silent close and people were beginning to filter away, but Madelyn remained where she was, her high heels planted in the grass while the wind brushed her black skirt against the goosebumps on her legs.

She wasn't ready for this. It had taken her all week to realize it, but now it was finally sinking in and she wasn't ready for her family to be gone, leaving her the last McGivers alive.

She should have been expecting this though. Not William's premature death. She knew he easily could have lasted another twenty years. Nothing was stopping him. But she should have been expecting to find herself alone one day. She had grown up watching the size of her family shrink, a sob story from the beginning with her mother dead at her birth. Then her father in a fatal accident at fifteen, then her husband last year. Now her grandfather.

She wasn't ready for this at all, but she was doing everything she could to hold herself together while there were people around her. The last thing she wanted people to remember for was that poor lonely girl at her grandfather's funeral who cried like the world was ending. For a short amount of time, however, the world _was_ ending and she would withstand it alone. Her only real alternative would be to take Owen's offer of spending time at his parents' place in Surrey, which in reality mean that Owen would also take off work to be with her, and that was an idea that only made her cringe inwardly. She didn't need to feel compressed by his unwanted affection. She needed to get away. Tomorrow, she was heading to the coast, and no one, except maybe John, knew where she was going.

She forced herself back into the present moment as Admiral Marcus made his way towards her, dressed in his formal Starfleet regalia. He had been one of the pallbearers to carry William's casket to its final resting place. Madelyn appreciated that he'd taken the time out of his busy schedule to attend both memorial services for her grandfather, despite the fact she didn't know him very well.

"It was a good service," he said, offering her a slight smile. "William was a good man. Accomplished a lot for Starfleet, and still is if you think about. We were at the Academy together, if you didn't know."

This was news to Madelyn. "No, I didn't know," she said quietly.

The Admiral nodded. "He always was a hot head. I regret that I didn't get a chance to explain myself better that day in his office. I guess there are some things we just need to forgive and forget."

She didn't have a response for that, and didn't try to come up with one.

Marcus put a hand on her shoulder, lowering his voice. "Listen, I know you've been approached by John Harrison, so don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about when I say he will attempt to manipulate you. In my opinion, that's all he thinks people are good for. You need to be careful around him."

Madelyn found herself frowning up at the Admiral, partially confused as to why he would bring this up here, and because she was pretty sure John didn't act at all the way the Admiral thought he did.

"He was with me the night we found William," she replied quietly. "He's been nothing but kind to me since we met."

Now it was the Admiral's turn to frown, but he did it in a way that told Madelyn he was having a hard time understanding her and not because he was angry. He obviously didn't believe what she'd said.

"Well," he said after a moment, "that's even more of a reason for you to be careful. He's a sneaky son of a bitch."

"For being his superior officer, you don't sound very fond of him, Admiral."

He straightened and returned to his normal tone of voice, though no one appeared to be listening in anyway. "I don't have to be fond of my subordinates to do my job well, Ms. McGivers," he said. He turned when one of his assistants called for him and gave her a final look. "Just watch out for yourself."

She offered him a smile, though she wasn't sure it appeared genuine. "Thank you for your concern, Admiral, but I'm sure I'll be fine."

She saw him raise an eyebrow as he turned away, but wasn't sure what to make of it. His overt concern for her was perplexing, but maybe it was because she was around the same age as his daughter, Carol.

She could understand a man like Marcus becoming more protective of someone who had just lost the last member of their family, but she was a grown woman and could take care of herself and didn't want him prodding into her life. Still, she appreciated that he wasn't a total hardcase like her grandfather had led her to believe.

Eventually the crowd of people began to dwindle, trickling away up and down the hillside in which William was to be buried. Kelly came up to Madelyn and asked her quietly if she was ready to leave. Madelyn shook her head, told Kelly to go on home, that she would call a cab when she was ready. She told Owen the same thing, sliding passively away from him when his hand lingered on her back too long after a hug. He offered her a final sympathetic look and squeezed her hand before leaving with the last few funeral goers.

Finally, she was left there alone, standing in the grass and clutching at her jacket against the brisk air.

She watched as William's coffin was lowered into the earth and smoothly covered over, leaving a faint bare patch beside a simple granite headstone. The stone itself contained just a few simple engraved lines, which read:

William Henry McGivers

born 28 November, 2180

died 29 August, 2258

"Such as we are made of, such we be."

Madelyn didn't understand the William's reasoning for including the quote in his will, knowing only that it originated from Shakespeare's comedy, _Twelfth Night, _and that he had written it in several places among some of his personal things. It had seemed appropriate to have it included on his headstone.

A colder breeze made her tighten her arms over her chest. There was so much she could have said to him, but then, there was so much she could have said to Mark as well and she had moved past that at this point.

She tried to imagine that William's spirit lingered nearby somewhere, just waiting to hear her talk, wanting to be sure she was alright. Or if he wasn't nearby, maybe he was out exploring the vastness of space, or maybe he was just somewhere he had loved to be. The thought reminded her of the plans she was already forming in her head.

Glancing around, checking that she was alone, Madelyn decided to tell him

"I'm going down to the house in Hastings tomorrow," she said quietly. "Maybe I'll go out on your boat, sail down to the cliffs at Beachy Head, stop by your favorite pub in Eastbourne on the way back."

She remembered one day not too long ago when William had proclaimed he was going to open his own pub. She could already feel a lump growing in her throat. Her voice sank into a whisper.

"You did so much for so many people, but you wanted to do so much more. I don't even know what else to say. I'm gonna miss you so damn much."

She sniffed and wiped a stray tear from her cheek, quickly tucking her hands away in her jacket pockets. It was the least she could say, if only to reassure herself that things would go on to be ok. She had to believe he was in a better place now, and he would want her to start moving on.

She was no stranger to loss, but it seemed any loved ones in her life were doomed to slipping through her fingers. If only she could get rid of Owen that easily all the time.

She breathed in a shaky sigh and wiped her face again, then glanced up at movement in her peripheral vision. John Harrison was walking down the hillside towards her, his open gray coat catching the wind slightly. She glanced around, wondering why he'd come alone, and he offered her a sympathetic look when he stopped beside her, before turning his gaze to William's grave.

"Shakespeare. I see William McGivers had an appreciation for only the finest."

Madelyn smiled softly, appreciative of his acknowledgement of something that apparently ran in her family. She glanced over when he put a hand on her shoulder.

"I am sorry," he said quietly. "I should have recognized the threat to his life sooner. I will not make that mistake again."

She looked up at him, pulling hair from her mouth. "You're not going to tell me what this threat is or why it exists, are you?"

He removed his hand from her shoulder, tilting his chin down slightly as though he could get a better view of her that way. "We've already had this conversation."

So that was it then. She remembered what he had said before. If he told her all of the details, the whole truth, the hows and whys of the circumstances revolving around William's murder, she recognized that there was a chance she could act rashly on the information and endanger herself further. For the moment, she would have to live out the age-old phrase "ignorance is bliss," and proceed with her life.

She knew herself well enough to know that maybe it was better she didn't know everything, at least for now, but it struck her that John had read her so well in the short time she'd known him that he would know this as well. Not knowing everything made her slightly wary, but at the same time she found comfort in his casual effort to keep an eye on her.

Her voice broke the comfortable silence between them. "In the meantime, you'll do what you can to stop these people from striking again?"

His faintly soft expression didn't change. "I already have. But it would be best if you left London for a few weeks, to ensure this."

She nodded. She was planning on driving down to Hastings first thing in the morning. She would leave a note in Kelly's flat, but make no mention of where she was going, only that she needed a short holiday and would be back in a month or so. Something still bothered her, however, and she wasn't going to back down from asking John questions until she was satisfied with some shred of an answer.

"I don't want to be the one to say this, and I certainly don't mean anything by it, but I can't help but wonder if you knew something was going to happen before you ever talked to my grandfather. You told me that by seeing him, you were potentially putting him in danger. You could have stopped this from ever happening."

She saw John's jaw tense and regretted her words for a moment. By the look in his eyes as they drifted over William's grave, Madelyn wished intensely to know what was going on in his brain.

"I didn't think they would go so far," he said finally. "Unfortunately, I had assumed less of certain people, but now I'm well aware of what I'm up against. I've already sent them a message, and I'll be sure to send another one if my point wasn't made the first time."

Madelyn wondered what sort of message he had sent, but decided it was better not to know. He was still so cryptic with his answers, and that in itself was frustrating. He seemed to know so much and yet would hardly speak about it, as though there was some big secret he couldn't dare utter aloud, for fear of some painful consequence.

Maybe things were more complicated for John than they were for her. She had no way of knowing who he was dealing with, or how he had known who to send his message to. For all she knew, John was the only thing standing between her and a shadowy assassin, which was why she was getting out of town.

She shrugged her arms deeper into her jacket, pulling it tightly around herself again. The sun was sinking lower behind the trees, casting long shadows across the hillside and making the temperature drop. In an hour or so it would be completely dark.

"I should probably go. I need to pack before I leave tomorrow and I want to get out early."

She said this, but she didn't make any motion to leave, her heels planted in the grass. An idea sprouted in her mind and she couldn't keep her mouth shut. "Maybe you could stop by the place in Hastings sometime. No one knows where I'm going except you."

When she looked up at him, to her disappointment the expression on his face was completely unreadable, but the tone of his voice held a note of despondency. "That won't be possible. Admiral Marcus is sending me off-world for two months. I can only hope to complete a few affairs in London before I leave."

Madelyn was sure her own expression was flooded with disappointment and she looked away with a shrug. "It was worth a shot. I wasn't sure if it'd be good for me to be alone for so long, but maybe it will." She stared off into the distance for a moment, still trying to process everything. "At least I won't have to deal with Owen."

"You may be pleased to hear that Commander Gallagher is also going off-world for a length of time. Marcus thinks we work well together."

She glanced up at him to see a slight snarl had formed on his lips, and felt her own lips curving into a smirk. "Is he really that bad to work with?"

"If I could remove his vocal cords, perhaps he wouldn't be."

Madelyn gave a nervous laugh. "He's not easy to shut up when he has something to say."

John looked down at her with an eyebrow raised, forming crinkles in his forehead. "He has a lot to say about you."

Her smile faded. She imagined Owen had loads to say about her, but she didn't want to think about those details. "I've tried to make it clear to him that I'm not interested in taking the next step. He's my friend, and that's all he'll ever be. I wish he could get that through his stupid skull."

"Perhaps I can try, though it could be painful for him."

That made her smile again. "I hope you're not serious."

John didn't answer, but when Madelyn caught his gaze she instantly knew he was teasing. She shivered suddenly as another breeze rustled around them.

"I need to get home. It was good to see you again. Stay safe out there."

She glanced upwards towards the darkening sky, making the obvious insinuation towards space. She'd never been off-planet herself, never saw the need or had the desire, but she'd heard enough stories about space travel to know it was dangerous and not something to be taken lightly.

John nodded, a faint smile ghosting his lips, but he didn't say anything. He backed away a few steps, holding her gaze before turning and starting back up the hill in the direction he'd come.

A tinge of loneliness prodded its way into her mind as she watched him walk away. If she was going to spend a few weeks away alone, then she was going to need to pack things to occupy her time, things that didn't involve any reminders of her grandfather. Being in Hastings, using his boat, sailing to their favorite landmarks and visiting his favorite places along the coast, all of that would provide more than enough reminders of him.

Being alone, without a family member to go to or to call on the phone, that was going to be harder, and she knew the feeling hadn't quite sunk in yet.


	4. Entertaining Tyrants Unawares

_**A/N: Shout out to Myystikal, Sorceress of the Trees, Poodle warriors, TheGirlWhoWaited, and CLTex for faithfully reviewing! Also anyone else who's reviewed that I left out! Thank you all so much for your feedback!**_

_**For future reference, I will attempt to update this story once a week, mostly so I don't put too much pressure on myself, especially as the holidays roll around.**_

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**Chapter 4 – Entertaining Tyrants Unawares **

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Spending the entire month of September in Hastings ultimately proved to be the best decision Madelyn had made in a long time. When she arrived back in London at the beginning of October, she was ready to jump back into her life with renewed vigor. She found an apartment over the weekend, downtown and walking distance from work, and had her things moved there from her grandfather's house. Kelly made a split second decision to move in with her, ditching her own flat at the university. The two of them had talked before about getting an apartment together, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

To Madelyn's surprise, she was welcomed back to work with open arms, despite the fact that she had missed the first month of the term. Because of her absence, she was assigned to lecture on an experimental course called 'Literature of the Tyrant,' replacing another lecturer who had not been meeting university standards. At first, Madelyn wondered if she was being treated as a 'replacement' because she was one of the youngest members of the university's staff, but she quickly realized this wasn't the case, that more was expected of her than she originally thought, so she sought to exceed every expectation.

The contents of her course delved into the written works of despots, kings, and dictators, who ruled everything from individual nation-states to entire chunks of humanity, in a time range that went as far back as the mid-1900s beginning with the infamous Adolph Hitler. Within a week of returning to work, Madelyn had her students analyzing assigned works for socio-economic policies, agendas driven by personal belief systems, and even military and political posturing that often contributed more to a ruler's rise or demise than was intended.

Despite the class' heavily politically-driven content, Madelyn was able to strike a balance between having her students analyze the literature itself as writing, and forcing them to discuss the political leanings behind each despot they read about. She hoped she could ultimately lead them to find threads of admitted personal shortcomings or egotistically-driven personality flaws revealed in the writing. The end goal of the class was for each student to have written a 'manifesto' of sorts, presented through the imagined perspective of any particular dictator.

For Madelyn, the ultimate joy she found in teaching such a complex and new sort of class was not in the actual historical content, but in seeing the creative abilities of each student blossom as they tried to understand exactly what it was that made a dictator tick. Several of her students were delving so deeply into their chosen historical figure that they actually came to her office one day to complain about how they were feeling disturbed by the mindset they were writing about, and that she should change her assignment in order to be more lenient towards their sensibilities.

Refraining from rolling her eyes, Madelyn merely insisted that because they were being disturbed by the content of their research, they must have been doing something right. She encouraged them to look into the more positive aspects of their chosen figure. After all, every man or woman could potentially have a weakness that might bring out a different side in them or open up another state of mind that offered different priorities.

As October flew by and morphed into November, word quickly spread throughout the university that Madelyn McGivers' literature class was one of the most difficult and most interesting undergraduate courses one could possibly be taking. She began to receive questions on a daily basis about what she would be teaching during the next term, but she could only respond with a friendly look followed by "whatever the department assigns me." Everyone knew she was the youngest lecturer at the school, but no one seemed to care. Clearly her future classes would be in high demand. Several department heads told Madelyn she could choose whichever courses she wanted to teach, and that if she was feeling brave she could even design her own series of courses if she was willing to teach them all.

By mid-November, Madelyn found herself with a teaching career that showed no signs of slowing down.

She hadn't heard from John Harrison since she'd come back to London, and she assumed Admiral Marcus had extended his off-world assignment. The plus side to that, of course, was that she also hadn't heard from Owen. She hoped the two men were getting along relatively well, though she couldn't help but wonder if John had found a way to shut Owen up. Not in a bad way, of course. She would never wish any harm to come to Owen. He'd never done anything to her, except act overbearing while constantly looking to spend more and more time with her, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.

Madelyn found it curious, however, that she was even thinking about John. If he was back in London by now, there really wasn't a reason for him to contact her again. Nothing had happened to her, and there had been nothing suspicious in the news that could be remotely related to her grandfather's murder. Since William's apparent killer had himself been murdered on the same night, and the search for the third party had come up with nothing, there hadn't been a court case, and the media storm surrounding the events had quickly dissipated. As far as anyone was concerned, Madelyn McGivers was just a lecturer at one of London's top universities, not particularly well known for anything else outside her academic circles. And she was happy with that.

In fact, the last time she'd felt her life had been going so well, she'd been a twenty-three year old newlywed working in New York with Mark.

Now she was almost twenty-eight, single, and content with her career. Kelly had said that was all that mattered. Contentment. Madelyn had to agree.

But at the same time, she found herself missing John. Maybe it was because he'd been so supportive during those tumultuous few days surrounding her grandfather's death. He'd been the one to inform her that her life had been in danger, and had subsequently made sure she stayed safe, whatever that had entailed. She'd finally also been able to admit to herself that she'd found him more than slightly attractive. Whether he had picked up on those signals or not, she had no idea. He'd been so cryptic about everything that she felt like she barely knew him anyway, but he still lingered in the back of her mind.

And then one day, late in November, he appeared in the back of her lecture hall.

She caught sight of him when he first stepped through the back entrance, his tall silhouette framed by an unmistakable high-collared coat. He stood there like a statue, his hands in his coat pockets, watching her with far more intensity than she'd gotten from him the first time they'd met. Even from his position far across the room, she could tell he was listening closely to everything she was saying. It made her nervous, so to collect herself without making anything obvious, she posed a discussion question to the class based on the information she'd just finished relaying about an obscure figure named Khan Noonien Singh, and was able to let her students take over from there.

In his prime, Khan had ruled over a quarter of the Earth's population. His three year reign beginning in 1993 was considered an exception during the Eugenics Wars period as one of the most peaceful by modern historians, in comparison to the reigns of his fellow Augments—many of their nations were quickly ripped to shreds by internal conflicts, especially the short-lived Balkan state. However, Khan was best known for curtailing the freedoms of his subjects, and though the era of the Eugenics Wars was now so far gone that many academics didn't consider it a legitimate topic of study anymore, there were still some scholars who stubbornly continued the narrative.

There were published works proclaiming that, although Khan's intentions may have been noble, his means had merely proved that he was the desperate and egotistical tyrant, which twentieth century Western propaganda had painted him to be. Madelyn knew this much alone because she had written her dissertation on Augment literature before graduating from NYU.

She flashed a grainy photograph of Khan onto the holoprojector for emphasis, one of the few surviving physical records of the man's appearance. She knew he must have used his looks along with his charisma to garner himself support, and she had to admit he wasn't at all bad looking. Of course, all Augments had been specifically designed to not only _be_ "better," but to look "better" as well.

He bore classic Indian features, jet-black hair, brown skin, a wide forehead, deep-set eyes, and a chiseled jaw. However the thing that stood out to her the most were his cheekbones, and she realized she found them so attractive because she'd seen similar ones on someone else. In fact that someone was standing in the back of her lecture hall, listening to everything and watching her closely. She took the inside of her lip in her teeth to keep from laughing at herself and directed her attention to her students' intensifying discussion.

One red-headed, green-skinned Orion student's stance stood out to Madelyn, and she encouraged her to continue when a few students scoffed at the beginnings of her opinion. The Orion girl defended Khan's overall political position of leadership, which had been one of absolute authority under certain conditions. She declared that although one of Khan's ultimate goals had been to bring peace to his region of the world at all costs, it had never been his intention to make decisions that ultimately and inadvertently assisted in genocides perpetrated by other Augments. She even brought up a section of their text to prove her point, including a short but moving speech which Khan had made the day before Belgrade, Serbia was hit with sarin gas (an attack later blamed on Khan by Western authorities, but never actually proven to have been his order).

Another student across the room loudly interrupted the Orion girl, accusing her of promoting Nazism by defending a genocidal war criminal. He argued that it ultimately didn't matter if Khan had inadvertently assisted in a mass murder, or killed them all himself, because it was still an outrageous act of war in a time when people were extremely sensitive to words like 'race' and 'blood.'

The dialogue after that quickly devolved, and Madelyn had to raise her voice louder than she would have liked in order to bring things back under control. In the resulting din of complaints and jeers between students, she chanced another glance at John, whose expression had shifted from intense interest to slight amusement.

Biting her upper lip to keep herself from berating the students who'd started the discussion in the first place, Madelyn decided to cut the class short, and quickly added that everyone would have to write a two-page opinion paper presenting their own beliefs on the brief but controversial reign of Khan Noonien Singh, including their reasoning behind their beliefs. Failure to do so would result in a twenty-five percent reduction in their overall course grade. The room let out a collective groan peppered with several unfortunate words, but Madelyn was satisfied she'd made her point. She didn't tolerate uncivil academic discussions, especially in a class that was supposed to be about the motives, means, and ends of leaders as revealed in their writing, not their morality. Her class was not a television talk show masquerading as the news.

As her students eagerly exited the lecture hall, Madelyn noticed John making his way towards her down the center aisle against the flow of traffic. As he drew nearer, he bumped shoulders with a couple students and threw an intense gaze in their direction when they hurried off. Madelyn avoided his gaze as he approached, flipping off the holoprojector and packed her PADDs into her bag. She wasn't willing to give him her full attention until she was ready to go, embarrassed he had seen her almost lose control of her class. It would be her luck for him to show up the day that happened for the first time ever in her career.

When he stopped with only a few feet between them, she chanced a look up at him and inwardly groaned. She could tell by the slight curve of his lips he was still amused at something, but she met his gaze firmly nonetheless, her lips pressed tightly together to show she wasn't pleased with that fact.

"Do your students always disagree with so much vehemence, or did you choose the topic of discussion on purpose to provoke them?"

She'd almost forgotten how deep his voice was; it shook her out of her initial self-consciousness enough for her to crack a smile. "It's good to see you too, John," she replied, implying that she wasn't impressed with the first thing to come out of his mouth after three months. "When did you get back?"

He lowered his chin a little, his smirk growing more apparent. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"Answer mine first."

He seemed to retreat slightly, but acquiesced smoothly. "Last night."

Madelyn nodded, then crossed her arms. "Well to answer your question, I don't provoke my students. In fact, that was the first time my class has ever gotten out of hand, and I don't intend to let it happen again."

She felt tiny under his penetrating gaze as he spoke. "I'm curious, given the nature of the discussion, what your own opinion is of Khan Noonien Singh?"

She shrugged, giving it a second of serious thought. "He made his way to the top through controversial means. Given the number of attacks and suspicious assassinations that happened during his reign, I probably wouldn't have been a supporter of his. But I think his motives were…" She paused, trying to think of a neutral term to describe how she viewed the overall circumstances that had surrounded Khan's three years of absolute power. He hadn't earned the nickname "The Augmented Tyrant" for nothing.

"I think his motives were understandable," she said finally, "given the almost constant state of war the world was in at that time. But I also think there were times where he would have been better off holding back. "

John's eyes narrowed. "So you would agree that his actions had merit?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "No one has purely selfless motivations. Besides, he was an Augment, and history shows us that Augments had a tendency to self-destruct. There was a reason the Federation banned genetic manipulation after the Eugenics Wars. Most people say the Augments were driven by ego, but I think it's more complicated than that. Anyway, I'm much more interested in figuring out what drove figures like Khan to act as they did, rather than be the morality police and declare that somehow everything he did was wrong because he came out on the wrong side of history. There are already plenty of people who do that on a daily basis."

He pressed in a little closer to her as she spoke, listening extremely attentively, but she pretended like she didn't notice, keeping her tone casual. "Why are you asking me this? Looking to go to grad school?" She added the last bit with touch of humor in her voice as he was clearly above that.

An air of indifference settled over him and he stared out into space for a moment. "Curiosity."

Madelyn stared at him as she realized she'd told him way more than she'd meant to and that he'd hardly said a word otherwise. "What are you doing here anyway? Things have settled down, I haven't had any problems, so there's no reason for you to be here."

His familiar vague smile appeared again. "Would it bother you if I merely wanted to get to you before Owen did?"

She swallowed, taking a moment to turn his words over in her mind. Of the things he could be insinuating by that, there was one she wasn't quite ready to accept, but at the same time she desperately wanted it more than anything. She pushed the thought away and gave him another look.

"So he's still alive?" she quipped lightly, scrunching her nose, of course not meaning it seriously. She recalled their last conversation at the cemetery.

John's nostrils flared as he scoffed under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear. "There were moments when I wanted nothing more than to change that."

Madelyn winced a little, not realizing it had really been that bad. She didn't want to imagine being stuck working with Owen herself, but John appeared to be serious. "I didn't actually mean it that way," she said quickly. "I just thought he would be, you know, tolerable."

"That's a nicer way of putting it, but I would rather not discuss it further. To answer your question, I'm merely here to check up on you. I wanted to be sure nothing untoward had happened in my absence."

She tried desperately to restrain the small smile threatening to creep onto her lips, and turned to retrieve her bag so he wouldn't see. "That's very thoughtful of you, but I'm fine. Everything's been fine."

She turned again when she'd recovered from her moment of surprise.

"You're not very good at keeping a straight face," he remarked.

Madelyn bit down hard on the inside of her lip, her smile rushing forward. She looked away across the empty lecture hall, her cheeks growing hot. She couldn't believe herself, acting like a teenager in front of him. She was a grown woman, she reminded herself. She should have been able to control herself better.

She returned her gaze to him, noting with embarrassment that she was definitely the source of his current amusement. "I need to go to my office. I have a meeting in about five minutes," she said. "Was there anything else you came here to tell me?"

She swore she saw his tongue slide along the inside of his cheek.

"Not explicitly no," he said quickly. "Mind if I see your office though?"

"Not at all."

As they walked out of the lecture hall together, Madelyn wasn't ignorant of John's proximity, nor was she bothered by it. She wasn't sure she could admit that to herself yet; she wasn't ready to take that step.

"So how was it? Wherever you were?" she asked.

"Tolerable."

She had to laugh at the way he threw the word back at her. "That's it?"

"The work I do is highly classified. It would be unwise for you to ask about it."

She smirked at his seriousness. "Why, because you'd kill me?"

"No. But someone else might."

Her smirk vaporized and she quickened her steps.

"How was your time in Hastings?" he asked after they crested a flight of stairs.

So now he was asking her the same questions, and she had no excuse not to answer. This guy had nerves.

"It was good. This is my office." She motioned to the nearest door as they rounded a corner. Unlocking it and stepping inside, the lights flickered on automatically when they sensed her presence. She went over to her desk and began moving the contents of her bag into a locked drawer, glancing up when she realized John was standing close by.

"It was good?"

Madelyn gave him an eyebrow and returned her attention to the contents of her bag. "You didn't give me much of an answer—"

"So you elect to withhold information from me that will more than likely be innocuous, if only to spite me because I didn't answer your question the way you had hoped?"

Now it was Madelyn with her tongue in her cheek. He caught on quick. Too quick. Obviously she needed to explain herself.

"I'm sorry, it's just that Owen does the same thing. He'll tell me he can't talk about work, and then somehow he gets me to just talk and talk and I end up telling him way more than I should and…" She shut the drawer in her desk and rose to her feet to meet his gaze, though she was still looking up at him. "I was hoping you were different."

His eyes flitted over her face and then a smile crept across his lips. "Well, I certainly don't want to disappoint you."

She suddenly grew conscious of how close they were standing to each other, just as he turned and walked slowly around the room, his gaze taking everything in.

"Anything I tell you, you must promise never to repeat to anyone, especially Commander Gallagher, considering his position relative to us both."

Madelyn felt a slight thrill edge its way into her, partially because he had suddenly decided to exceed her expectations of trust.

"My lips are sealed," she said.

He went over and shut the door to her office, then turned and settled his burning gaze on her. "I know you're somewhat aware of Admiral Marcus' intentions to militarize Starfleet. He spoke with your grandfather about it on a number of occasions."

Madelyn nodded, watching him as he crossed the room, grateful suddenly for the desk that sat between her and his markedly changed presence. There was gravity in his voice she couldn't quite shake.

"Marcus specifically requested that I assist him in this endeavor," he said slowly. "I am designing weapons and warships for him. I was away for almost three months because I was personally inspecting every aspect of a new vessel I designed, which is currently under construction at a secret facility in orbit around Jupiter's moon Io."

He placed his fingers on the desk and leaned forward, lowering his voice.

"Breathe a word about this to anyone, and I assure you, if Marcus finds out, the consequences will be severe."

Madelyn was trying very hard not to break his stare. "My grandfather's money is paying for all of this, isn't it?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "Some of it, yes."

She let that sink in. So that would be William McGivers' legacy: helping to militarize Starfleet. That was exactly what he wouldn't have wanted.

"What if I pulled the funding? What would happen?"

He tensed, an expression falling over him much the same as the first time they'd discussed this. She watched as his thoughts seemed to pass over his eyes at the speed of light, and was hit with that same sense that there was still something he wasn't telling her.

"I mean this hypothetically," she added.

That seemed to make him relax slightly, for whatever reason.

"You would be dealing with a very angry set of Starfleet officials," he said bluntly, "and you would be costing thousands their livelihoods, and potentially some their lives."

She swallowed and took a long breath as John straightened from her desk.

"Does that surprise you?" he asked.

She nodded slowly.

He tilted his chin downwards. "It shouldn't."

She jumped at a knock on the door, and laughed at herself quietly. "That would be Ella. She has an issue with my assignment," Madelyn explained. She made her way around the desk towards the door, and opened it to see Owen.

"Hey Maddy, I was just—what the hell?"

He suddenly pushed past her, forcing his way into her office.

"Owen, what are you doing?"

His attention was focused on John. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

Madelyn saw the way John's face tightened as Owen glared at him, but Owen's behavior was more disconcerting.

"I was just leaving," John replied, making no effort to hide his displeasure as he walked towards the door, not even looking at Madelyn as he passed. She snuck a hand out and grabbed his coat behind her back, a gesture that Owen couldn't see, and John stopped.

"Owen!" she repeated. "What's going on?"

The blond man pointed a finger in their direction, his face red. "That man has no business being here. He's dangerous."

Madelyn let go of John's coat and went slowly towards Owen.

"He's my friend," she insisted, receiving an instant incredulous look from Owen, whose face snapped between her and John. The latter was still standing by the doorway, looking on with a hard expression. "Are you drunk?" Madelyn pressed.

"What? No, I'm not drunk. I was just coming by to say hi, since I was back. You didn't answer your phone."

Madelyn realized she must have forgotten to turn her communicator back on after her class was over, thanks to John's unexpected visit. She opened her mouth to explain but was cut off.

"Obviously you've already got company—"

"Owen, I have a meeting with a student in about thirty seconds. I can't let you do this right now."

"Do what? Maddy, I work with this guy. You should not be spending time with him!"

"Why? So I can spend more time with you?"

The silence that filled the room was stunning.

She couldn't believe she'd just said that, and neither could Owen. The surprise on his face turned to comprehension, and then anger. Before Madelyn could react, he took hold of her arm.

"Maybe that's not a bad idea," he said softly. "Why don't you reschedule your meeting and have dinner with me tonight?"

She knew her mouth was open, but she was too focused on the hand he had around her arm. She reached down and easily pried his fingers away, then stepped out of his reach.

"Commander Gallagher."

John's voice stole both of their attentions away from each other before Madelyn had a chance to respond with the cutting words perched on the edge of her tongue.

"Perhaps you should leave until you're able to calm yourself down enough to have a stable conversation with Ms. McGivers," said John.

Madelyn sent him a grateful look. Owen looked between the both of them, his upper lip quivering.

"Owen, please," she said, not even caring that she sounded like she was begging. She didn't want her student walking in on their practically domestic fight.

He nodded as though he'd had some sort of revelation. "Alright, fine. I'll go." He for the door. "Call me tonight," he said over his shoulder, storming down the hall.

As soon as he was gone, Madelyn's student appeared in the doorway with a PADD in her hand. She looked from Madelyn to John and back and hesitantly stepped through the door. "I had an appointment at four—"

Madelyn held up her hand, smiling painfully. "Sorry, we're gonna have to reschedule. Email me tonight and I'll get back to you, ok?"

Ella nodded and hurried from the room.

Madelyn heaved a sigh and sank into the chair beside her desk normally reserved for such meetings. She literally could not believe what had just happened.

"Maybe he's just pissy from being away for so long," she suggested after a moment. She glanced up at John. Some of the tightness in his features had worn off, but he didn't appear to be comfortable. He stood over her with just enough distance between them to leave her space. "He was pissed because of you. Is there something you want to tell me?"

He tilted his chin to look down at her closely. "Only that you should be careful around him."

She shook her head. "He's the second person to tell me that you're dangerous, that I should be careful around _you_. But I just don't see it."

A crinkle formed between his eyebrows. "Who was the first?"

His curiosity made her pause. "Admiral Marcus," she said.

That seemed to help him understand something, but she didn't know what. It was probably work-related knowledge. Maybe John was more brutal in a professional setting, whatever that entailed. She couldn't know, and she honestly didn't want to think on it further. She rubbed her forehead with her fingers, as though that would help her relax.

"I need some air," she said finally. "Maybe I'll take the long way home today. I need to clear my head." She stood up and began to gather her things, pulling on her coat and scarf, and shouldering her bag. "I just wish he wasn't so unstable sometimes. It's got to be because he's tired. You both have only been back for a day."

"You're trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but that's only going to come back and bite you," said John.

Madelyn headed out the door and locked it once John was outside. "You spent almost three months with him in space. You should know him pretty well by now. What do you think?"

"I've already told you."

She dropped her keys in her bag and looked up at him. "That I should be careful around him. Yeah I know. I've been doing that for years."

"Then I leave it up to your better judgment," he said.

She couldn't take him seriously when he wore a ghost of a smirk. She shot him a look and headed down the hall beside him.

If anything, she would try to stay away from Owen from now on. If it meant destroying their friendship, then that was what needed to happen. Owen obviously wouldn't back down now that he knew she and John were still in touch. Whether he had known previously hadn't occurred to her before, but the way he had reacted to John's being in her office had seriously put a dent in her ability to trust him.

Madelyn buried her hands in her coat pockets as they walked outside into the cold dusk, turning again to John. "I need to thank you for sticking around by the way, when I grabbed your coat. I don't know what I would have done in there by myself. To be honest, he kind of scared me."

She wasn't sure if she'd just admitted too much, but in reality she didn't have anyone else to tell who would believe her. John had witnessed Owen's behavior, and she was relieved when he nodded.

"In the time I spent with him off-world, Commander Gallagher exhibited a wide range of volatile behaviors. It surprises me you've been unaware of his instability until now."

She shook her head. "It's not that I've been unaware. I think I've been trying to ignore it. We went to school together. I care about him."

"If you care for yourself, you'll cut your ties with him," he replied, putting a hand on the arm of her coat.

She met John's gaze, half-wishing she'd never brought it up. Cutting ties with someone like Owen would be tricky, even if she wanted to. "I don't know if I can do that," she said quietly, still paying close attention to the way his fingers were wrapped around her coat sleeve. She swallowed and broke his gaze, an idea coming into her head suddenly. "Maybe if he saw me with you more often, he'd back off."

She hated the way it sounded the moment she said it. Not only could it hurt Owen, but it could potentially hurt _her_ if she let her imagination wander too much. She realized how she felt about John, but she was pretty sure he didn't share her affection.

"You're willing to put up a ruse in an attempt to make Commander Gallagher jealous?" John raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed."

"You made it sound like I didn't have a choice," she replied, looking at him with a faint smirk. "Do you have any alternative suggestions?"

He grunted. "None of them would meet your approval."

"Then I don't even want to know," she replied. This granted her a wider smile from John that she relished as long as it lasted. He was too stoic to smile much, but she was thrilled that she was the source of that rare look.

"Madelyn, perhaps it doesn't need to be a ruse."

She frowned slightly, trying to guess at what he meant. A sliver of an idea made something in her chest flutter and she shoved it away quickly.

He lowered his voice and shifted closer to her, conveniently blocking her face from the wind. "I want to see you again, if that's possible, but we cannot meet out in the open like this."

Madelyn fought to contain her grin and managed to plaster a cool façade over her face. Meanwhile she was running circles in her mind like a schoolgirl. "I'd like that, if you have the time," she said. "Maybe we could set up a specific place to meet, if being seen with me by someone in Starfleet is what you're worried about."

"It's what _you_ should be worried about, never mind Commander Gallagher."

So he was worried for her still. That was enough in itself for her to want to hug him, but she resisted the urge and merely nodded. "I appreciate your concern. I really do, but I don't think it has merit anymore."

"You would be surprised," he said, his tone more serious.

"Well, in that case, I'll have you know that I feel quite safe when I'm with you," she said carefully. "I think we both know what that means."

Based on his subtle shift in expression, he did, and she smiled because of it.

"I'll contact you when I can," he said. "Marcus has an infuriating habit of assigning last minute tasks. He likes to make it hard for me to predict his next move."

"Sounds like he knows how to do his job," said Madelyn.

John didn't respond, but merely grunted, his face tightening in that way that told her he wasn't happy to dwell on the subject.

Maybe Marcus had warned her he was dangerous because the two of them didn't get along. Maybe it was a power struggle. One day she'd get to the bottom of that, if only to honor her grandfather's memory. His money was going towards things he wouldn't have supported, so it was only right to have a better understanding of that system.

She shivered as another breeze brushed passed them, then glanced down and realized John was still holding onto her arm. She looked back up at him but he clearly had no intention of letting her go yet.

"It's getting cold," she said. "I should head home." She pulled gently against his grip until he hesitantly relinquished it, but she couldn't help but smile slightly even as she took a few steps away from him. "You'll contact me, right?"

"Of course."

As they parted ways, Madelyn smiled to herself and wondered where the next few weeks and months would take her.

* * *

_**Please leave feedback if you want. I'd love to know what you guys thought of this chapter!**_


	5. A Natural Contrivance

_**A/N: Firstly, I'd just like to thank Amatista, CLTex, KnoKnayme, Poodle warriors, Sorceress of the Trees, TheGirlWhoWaited, Yuna-Sakura, and all you guests for being friendly or providing feedback last chapter. I love hearing your thoughts on this story as always.**_

_**I'd also like to point out that this is the first chapter to contain some of Khan's POV. I felt that things just wouldn't make sense without letting you guys into his head, besides being in Madelyn's. With these nifty line breaks this site provides, hopefully you shouldn't get confused.**_

_**This is my longest chapter yet, so enjoy!**_

* * *

**Chapter 5 – A Natural Contrivance **

* * *

It was December before Madelyn heard from John again. Meanwhile, Owen was doing his damndest to try and get back into her good graces. When she finally acquiesced to his request to meet for coffee, she asked him what John was up to, not mentioning that he had yet to contact her like he'd promised. Owen only responded with "Commander Harrison is busy, and doesn't have the time to spend with you, as I know he claimed he did. You can't make me jealous, Maddy."

Though his tone wasn't intentionally bitter, his words rang with something that hurt and made her feel slightly guilty, but she wasn't about to admit that. She made a point of avoiding all physical contact with him, including withholding her usual hug. She hoped he was getting the message but she wanted to preserve their friendship, and cutting ties with him as John had suggested was going to be her last resort.

Madelyn finally did receive a few text messages from John, cementing in her mind the opposite of Owen's claim that "Commander Harrison" was too busy to acknowledge her existence. He certainly wasn't too busy to put seeds of doubt into Owen's mind regarding Madelyn's supposed "secret feelings." John believed Owen harbored dangerous psychopathic tendencies, and though Madelyn wasn't quite ready to go that far, she also didn't believe Owen was entirely stable.

She and John agreed to keep this suspicion between the two of them for now. Madelyn was satisfied enough knowing Owen was forced to work with John, and that John was keen enough to let her know his thoughts on him.

The same day she received his texts, Madelyn walked into her office at the university to find John sitting in her chair, his back ramrod straight, his fingers drumming on her desk. It was as though he owned her office, and she was the one who didn't belong. She stopped in the doorway and stared him down with a faint smile on her face. "Comfy?"

John didn't budge from the chair, watching her as she approached her desk. "Surprisingly," he answered. He reached over and picked up one of the photographs on her desk, then turned it so she could see. "Is this you?" he asked.

Madelyn smiled when she saw the photo. It was the one she'd found in her grandfather's home, a photo of the two of them on his boat when she was little. She had recently gotten it preserved between protective sheets of glass. It was small enough to fit into her pocket, but it meant everything.

"Yeah, I think I was eleven when that was taken."

John returned the photo to its original position, still looking at it. "A rather large fish for man that size to be carrying, don't you think?" He raised an eyebrow at Madelyn.

She shrugged and came around the desk to put her things away. "He was a strong man. He didn't take shit from anyone."

John relinquished her chair as she knelt down to slide her PADDs inside the desk. When she straightened and turned, she found they were facing each other closely, reminiscent of a similar situation that occurred the month before. Even in her heels, Madelyn eyes only came to his chin. She was also conscious of the top button in her shirt she'd chosen not to fasten that morning, and couldn't decide whether that had been a good decision or not.

"Has Commander Gallagher made any attempts to dissuade your lack of feelings for him?" John asked.

She swallowed at his voice, at the way it passed from under the unfortunately curved cupid's bow of his lips.

"He's, um…" She tore her gaze from his mouth and forced herself to look him in the eye. "He's been fine," she said tilting her chin up slightly so she didn't feel so small under his intrusive gaze. "He hasn't tried to talk to me much. I'm guessing you've had something to do with that."

"Perhaps," he replied. "When we were off-world, he spent a large amount of his breath insisting you were, and I quote, "the woman for him." He carried a photograph of you on his person."

Madelyn visibly winced.

"Attempting to convince him that you are, in fact, _not_ the woman for him may require more… overt action," said John. "However, I'm not willing to risk my position with Admiral Marcus by taking said action."

Madelyn worried on her lower lip for a moment as she considered what he'd said. Overt action. Jesus Christ, what was he insinuating? She wouldn't allow her mind to go there. She couldn't even believe she was still considering a romantic ruse as an option.

"What you've done for me up until now has probably been more than I needed," she said. "I would never want you to put your career at risk. I was just spooked by what he did last month and I overreacted."

"You did what any self-respecting woman in your position would do," said John. "You asked for help, and I was the only person you could come to."

"No, you weren't the only one. But you were there and you knew what he was like." She paused, considering whether this would take things too far. "And I trusted you."

The look in his eye changed and he tilted his chin down as though that would help him meet her gaze more fully. "You trust too easily," he murmured.

Madelyn swallowed at the depth in his tone, at the proximity of his breathing, and at the way he had suddenly taken her arm in his hand, his thumb tracing slow circles on the soft skin inside her wrist. She turned her head slightly, without breaking his gaze. "You haven't given me a reason not to."

There it was again, the look that said he was hiding something, disguised behind a penetrating gaze as his eyes narrowed a fraction. John's thumb stilled and his fingers tightened around her wrist. "You barely know me," he said under his breath.

Their faces were hovering mere inches apart. Madelyn glanced down when his grip continued to tighten, until it cut off the circulation in her hand and her fingertips tingled. When she looked back at him, he let her go, his expression completely unreadable, his lips slightly parted.

"What was that for?" she asked quietly, pulling her hands behind her back, stretching her fingers out to stimulate blood flow. John didn't answer right away. His eyes were far more interested in her than she decided she was comfortable with, especially after that subtle show of physical strength. She opened her mouth to question him, but he beat her to the punch.

"Do you have plans tonight?"

The question caught her off guard and she scrambled to recall if she did. She barely shook her head no before he continued.

"Good. You will meet me in Trafalgar Square at eight o'clock."

He backed away from her with until he was out from behind her desk, and then he strode out of her office without another word.

"That's it?" she called.

He paused in the doorway, turning his head enough for her to see his profile. "Don't be late."

When he was gone, Madelyn realized her mouth was hanging open and promptly shut it. She pulled her chair over and sank down into it, letting out a breath, telling herself to relax. The chair was still warm and smelled faintly of his coat. She slowly let a smile play at her lips, however, she couldn't help but feel a slight inkling of tension, not necessarily because of the way John had taken her arm, but by the look he had given her afterwards, as though something had kindled his interest in her to a point that was dangerously close to crossing a line.

* * *

Two centuries ago, Trafalgar Square had been the very center of London's tourist trade, bordered by the National Gallery, a historic church, and the South African Embassy. Though it was now surrounded and overshadowed by skyscrapers of monumental proportions, Khan found Trafalgar Square to be exactly the same as he remembered it two centuries earlier. It was one of the few places in this city that had changed little since he had last visited in the mid-nineties, when he'd ruled a quarter of the planet. Somehow, though, his involuntary shift in perspective was refreshing, only because anonymity was his closest ally now. Teeming with life, even at this hour in the evening, Trafalgar Square was the perfect place to rendezvous with the woman whose existence he was quickly coming to terms with.

His attempt to test the strength of Madelyn McGivers' bones had been more than enough proof in itself. Any normal human's wrist would have cracked underneath the pressure his clenched hand had exerted, but he had only succeeded in temporarily cutting off her circulation. It was the final proof he needed to confirm his suspicions, which had arisen ever since he learned of the existence of William McGivers through Admiral Marcus.

It was the last name that had first drawn his interest. He'd heard it before, but he couldn't place the circumstances. The chaos that had surrounded his defeat during the Eugenics Wars had clouded his memories and his extended cryosleep had blurred the unimportant details of his past life together. The only thing he could be certain of was that an Augment he'd believed to be dead had managed to live on, blended into human society, and passed his DNA on into the future.

And now, in that future, was Madelyn McGivers.

There was no possible way she was as pure an Augment as he was. Her enhanced genes would have been diluted, mixed with ordinary genetic material as they were passed down through her family. But there was also a chance she wasn't the only one, that she had a cousin or an uncle she didn't know about, but the likelihood of that was miniscule given the extremely low success rate of Augment pregnancies. Coupled with Madelyn's story of her mother's death, the picture grew even dimmer, leading Khan to the conclusion that Madelyn was the last remaining descendant of one of his closest friends.

He was fascinated by the idea of her, by her obliviousness to what she was. He only regretted that he couldn't tell her, though judging by her opinion of Augments that probably wouldn't promote progress between them anyway.

In fact, Khan couldn't tell her anything, and he had been careful to skirt around the truth when her questions had drifted towards it. The lives of his crew depended on his silence, and he would not let Admiral Marcus take pleasure in killing more of them. Marcus had already taken twelve, in retaliation for Khan's murder of twelve of Marcus' people when he'd first been awoken. An action Khan should have recognized as a mistake sooner than he had. Once again, he blamed the stagnation of cryosleep on his inability to have judged the initial stages of his wretched situation more clearly.

Now, he was "Commander John Harrison," one of Marcus' top operatives in Section 31, a clandestine organization within Starfleet. If anyone caught a whiff of his true identity, well, Marcus had already given him a taste of what he was willing to do. Khan was not about to risk anything. Not yet.

It had been ten months since the day he learned why he'd been awoken, what he would be forced to do for a power-hungry man intent on starting a war that could easily be prevented with the proper steps. It had been nine months since Marcus had promised him his crew would gradually be awoken to join him if he behaved, and so far that promise had not been fulfilled. Khan was getting restless, especially now that his ship was nearing completion. Before long, he would need to begin acting on his plan, otherwise he feared Marcus would dispose of him and his crew once they were no longer needed, the same way he'd disposed of the first twelve.

Khan could not let that happen.

However, for tonight, he was focused on Madelyn.

At some point, he decided, he would need a sample of her blood. How he would acquire it without her knowing, that was the question. He intended to let the night play out. In continuing to meet with her, he was merely allowing himself the opportunity to confirm that she was who he suspected. She seemed to have little problem allowing him to be an influence in her life, so far being completely accepting of his façade as John Harrison without needing to know much more about him. In fact, Khan sensed that she was far more attracted to him than she'd been willing to admit out loud, which he found not unusual, but also slightly interesting. He wondered if he could use that attraction to his own advantage, and yet felt a nagging sensation at the same time that made him hesitate to act. He was unsure he wanted to cement a connection between them before knowing one hundred percent what his intentions were in doing so. He had yet to decide for himself exactly why he felt so compelled to continually pursue her in this passive way.

Above all of these things, he knew for sure that Madelyn trusted him because she had readily admitted it. Her trust had been easier to acquire than he'd anticipated, helped along by the presence of her unfortunate friend Mr. Gallagher, as well as her grandfather's passing.

On one hand, Khan felt an inkling of kinship with her, not only because she was not as human as she believed but because she no longer had family, and at this moment in time neither did he. They were at the mercy of Admiral Marcus, and Khan knew that if he so much as lifted a finger wrong, Marcus could easily unplug any of those precious cryotubes and slowly steal the life from another of his crew.

It was fascinating to Khan to see Madelyn living in society without anyone suspecting that she was anything other than an ordinary human, and Khan had recently been experiencing that for himself as well. It was strange, to go unrecognized among the masses, to bump shoulders with passersby who didn't have a clue, who, in another life, would have been arrested for even looking at him wrong. Of course, it had helped that Marcus had ordered he undergo major reconstructive cosmetic surgery soon after being pulled from cryosleep.

To his chagrin, he no longer looked anything like his former self, if the photograph Madelyn had shown during her lecture was any indication. His skin had been severely lightened, his eyes colored an unearthly blue, his mouth readjusted and his lips reshaped, among many other slight adjustments that had rendered him unrecognizable even to the most astute historian who happened to pass him on the street. He passed for the average Caucasian Englishman, excepting the fact that even after such intensive surgery, he would never appear as and was certainly not _average_.

Only his hair had been left alone, except for being completely chopped off in the back. He had always kept his hair longer, in respect for the Sikh culture of his birth, and for the people he had once ruled. Having it cut had been the final straw, the glue that sealed his new identity into place and cemented his position of submission underneath the man now holding his crew hostage.

From his central location in the square, Khan spotted Madelyn the moment she stepped from a crowd of people across the street. She walked quickly, her eyes flitting from face to face in her search for him, her hands buried in her coat pockets. A gray scarf was tucked around her neck and a navy skirt brushed her legs, which were wrapped in leggings, knee socks, and sleek leather boots. No doubt it was a frigid December evening, but Khan was not affected by the cold, wearing merely his usual coat over a shirt and trousers. Obviously Madelyn had retained the very human weakness for cold and heat, and Khan wondered briefly how much of an Augment he could even consider her.

As she made her way across the square, Khan realized that he did sense a potential connection that could exist between them, but not out of mere carnal need or some base physical attraction. He was _better_, in every sense of the word, and could control his urges should they try to betray him. No, Madelyn drew him in because of her very existence, because of what flowed in her veins and made up her cells, because of what was written in her genetic code, and that in and of itself made her more like him than any other human on this planet. If there was anything that controlled fate or placed people where they were supposed to be—and when—then Khan might have been a wary believer, but he still needed concrete proof before he would pursue her further. He wasn't about to waste his time on a feeling that pulled him along by an invisible thread. Besides, there were potentially larger things happening that so far no one in Section 31 had even the faintest notion of.

What Khan had discovered as a result of William McGivers' premature demise at the hands of someone unrelated to Section 31 had given him a sense of satisfaction that his original reasoning for pursuing his research into the McGivers name had merit, but it had also resulted in the production of further questions. He had easily tracked down the murderer, a lazy bastard who must have been hired solely for the job of killing an unsuspecting old man, and disposed of him in a way that would never lead the authorities to him, but not before extracting every bit of information he could. He knew when the man lied, and the resulting information had come as more of a shock than anything. There was never a name, only the ever-present threat of someone with copious resources at their disposal working outside any jurisdiction of Starfleet or the Federation, but with fingers poking into both.

It had become difficult to keep a low profile, attempting to uncover the answers to these mysterious questions while under Admiral Marcus' watch. All that Khan knew for certain was it had not been Marcus who had ordered the hit. The Admiral was too preoccupied with planning his war, and using Khan to do it, and he would never have someone killed who kept his coffers full.

Catching Madelyn's eye, he strode forward through the crowd and took her arm, gently pulling her beside him until they were outside the streams of foot traffic crisscrossing the square.

"Well, hello to you too," she said, reclaiming her arm from his leisurely grip. "So why are we out here? It's freezing." She was faintly bouncing on her toes as though that would help her stay warm.

"I wanted to inform you personally that I enjoyed your lecture last week," Khan replied. "It seems we share an appreciation for historical figures of controversial means."

It was strange to be referring to himself in this manner, though her thoughts on other historical figures had obvious merit as well. He was more interested in flattering her than actually discussing his past life in the third person. If his present situation had been kinder, she would already know who he was and why he was beginning to feel pursuant of her. Ironically, it was his present situation that had placed him in her path to begin with.

"You're trying to flatter me so I won't complain about being stuck out here in the cold. Nice try," she replied, nudging him playfully with her elbow. "Look, I know a nice place right over there where we won't be freezing our collective asses off." She pointed across the square, then glanced back up at him. "I'm not about to turn into a human popsicle on our first date."

There it was, that refusal to bend to the will of someone else. Not as poignant as a true Augment, but nonetheless, she refused to let him call the shots. Khan decided it was refreshing for a change, to be in the company of a woman who didn't allow herself to be minimized into an attractive object there for his own amusement. Though he was hesitant to call this a date.

He didn't go on dates. He seduced, he conquered, he possessed.

Date?

He reminded himself quickly that John Harrison did not conquer or possess anything more than what Admiral Marcus allowed him to, and that under the circumstances it would be reasonable for a man in Harrison's position to acquiesce to Madelyn's request to get out of the cold.

Khan followed her closely across the square towards the establishment she had in mind, her use of the phrase "human popsicle" lingering in the back of his mind. He knew she meant nothing by it, of course. How could she? It was a harmless colloquialism. Nonetheless, it clung to him.

Admiral Marcus had adopted the term to describe his crew, frozen and helpless in their stasis pods. Khan could simply not let go of the phrase, but he knew if he was to continue playing his role as Harrison—and he had no choice—he would have to let those small things slide. He was quickly coming to realize that the line he'd drawn between Harrison and his true identity was not as thin as he would have liked it to be.

Preserving Madelyn's trust in the future would prove difficult if she discovered who he actually was. He would need to wait for the right moment to reveal himself, after his crew was safe and Admiral Marcus was no longer a threat.

* * *

The establishment that Madelyn had in mind was nothing more than a tiny wine bar, but it was quiet and toasty warm and one of her favorite spots in the city. She couldn't help but bite her lip as John's hand suddenly slid between her shoulder blades, guiding her towards a booth in the corner. She liked the way he subtly took control of their situation even after she'd disregarded his idea of walking in Trafalgar Square. He was crazy to want to remain outside in the cold, but she didn't tell him. She noticed how something she'd said had already made him tense up slightly, though it was hard to figure out what it was, given that he masked the expression almost immediately.

Madelyn sat down across from John, whose back was to the corner and had a wide view of the rest of the quiet establishment. They ordered a bottle of vintage Bordeaux at a price that made Madelyn raise her eyebrows. She normally ordered something much more… affordable, but apparently John decided he'd rather pull out all the stops on this—was it a date? Madelyn wasn't even sure, but she supposed it could be. The only reason she was unsure was because he'd asked her to meet him in one of London's most crowded public squares, and when it was freezing cold to boot.

Her doubts were assuaged as she became the focus of John's attention. She watched him over the top of her glass, sipping carefully, relishing the warm vintage as it slid down her throat, watching as he intensely tried his own glass. Her lips twitched in her attempt to restrain a wider smile. Everything he did was intense, almost calculating.

"This is an excellent vintage," John said after a moment. "What's the year?"

Madelyn reached over and turned the bottle in her fingers to read the label. "1996." Doing some quick math in her head, she was shocked; the server hadn't been kidding when he'd said the wine was _vintage_. She watched as a faint surprised expression flitted across John's face, then settled to mulling over their brief conversation in the square.

He'd been impressed with her, but she hardly knew why she should be flattered by him, and had told him so. Her response hadn't seemed to offend him, but he was hard to read. Even now, Madelyn realized his expression told her nothing more than what he allowed her to see, and at the moment he looked as enigmatic as ever.

She tore her eyes away from him to focus on the wine rocking gently in her glass, realizing she was far more attracted to him than she'd realized.

This was bad, she thought. Very bad.

"I'm assuming you didn't want to meet me tonight just to tell me you enjoyed my lecture," she said. She needed to distract herself from his beguiling gaze, but instead found herself watching his lips as he spoke.

"Of course not. But I did, particularly the way you handled yourself, reining in the discussion when things could have gotten out of hand, and following up with proof of your authority. Keeping in mind the controversial nature of the figure you put forward, I was surprised you pressed for civil discussion at all. You could easily have demanded your class submit a proper amount of work and moved on to a more… prolific character."

Madelyn took another sip of her wine before she responded. "You seem overly interested in what I do," she said, then she lowered her voice, letting the corner of her mouth lift in a faint smile, "for a weapon's specialist."

If she sounded like she was teasing him, she didn't care. It felt odd for him to be prodding her about her teaching, especially because the particular figure he was referring to was so obscure. In Madelyn's mind, studying Khan Noonien Singh was like studying the rise and fall of a more obscure and—there was that word again—_enigmatic_ version of Saddam Hussein, except Khan's reign had been even shorter and shrouded in speculation.

"Did I offend you?" asked John, raising an eyebrow.

She was relieved at how careful he was being. "No, it's just that I don't get a lot of questions about my work. If you don't mind me saying, the guys I've dated in the past were more interested in getting into my bed than my head."

Realizing what she'd just said, she paused to gauge his reaction. It was so hard to tell what he was thinking, and for a second, she felt almost as though she was in a job interview, being judged from behind a mask. She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows casually on the table, turning her glass thoughtfully in her fingers. "But you're different… in a good way, I mean."

God, she felt like an idiot. Why had she just said that? Madelyn still couldn't tell what he was thinking and it was making her nervous; John's gaze was so intensely focused on her that she had to bite her lip to keep from shifting in her seat and making things more awkward. And he was doing it again. Getting her to talk about herself without saying hardly a word. Despite the natural confidence he carried, he was guarded, and she wanted to get underneath that façade.

"You told me earlier today that I barely knew you. So why don't you tell me about yourself?"

She tried to make it sound like a challenge, but it came across as more of a suggestion to her ears.

"You already know everything you need to know about me," he replied. "For now."

Madelyn took a sip of her wine, still not taking her eyes off him. Whatever he was playing at, she liked it.

He leaned forward onto the table, resting his hands inches from hers. "These other men you've dated, who were they to you?"

She laughed softly. "One was a complete jerk who didn't last a week, and the other…" she paused, remembering Mark, his funny high pitched laugh, his drive to do good wherever he went. "The other I married." She waited to see how John would react, but his features revealed nothing, so she continued. "He passed away last year," she said quietly. "Lymphoma."

It took her a second to realize that the cause of the warmth spreading over her hand was him. She glanced down as his fingers pressed gently into her skin, and then back up when he leaned closer.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

Madelyn's lips parted and she smiled faintly. "No, it's ok."

She was so far gone in his gaze and she knew it too. How was it possible for a man to have such gorgeous eyes? Her gaze lingered down his face, landing on his lips again. All she had to do was leaned over a bit further…

John's face tightened and he straightened, his eyes lighting on something behind her. His hand still trapped hers to the tabletop.

"Does Mr. Gallagher know you frequent this establishment?" he asked.

Madelyn frowned, then attempted to turn and follow his gaze, stopping when his fingers tightened around her hand.

"Wait. He hasn't seen us yet."

She felt rising frustration that they were being interrupted by Owen's sudden arrival. "If he knows I like this place, he's never said anything."

John was still looking past her. "I'm not surprised."

She noticed when his fingers curled around her hand and pressed into her palm, his thumb drawing small circles on the top of her wrist. His gaze returned to hers. Madelyn swallowed.

"He's coming over here," he said softly. "Do you want to act on our ruse?"

Madelyn dropped her gaze to their hands. It obviously wasn't a ruse anymore. Whether it had ever been one, she didn't care. She met John's hard gaze again with a knowing smile, just as Owen stopped beside their table.

"Fancy seeing you here, with him." Owen was holding his drink in one hand and had shoved the other in his pocket. His gaze landed on their hands, still intertwined on the tabletop. "So you're seeing each other now."

"Owen, this really isn't a good time," said Madelyn. Nonetheless, she slid her hand out from underneath John's and put it in her lap. It instantly went cold again.

"Right, I'll just leave you two to your date then." Owen almost turned to leave, and then he paused, looking directly at John. "Watch yourself, _Commander_. If you so much as touch her the wrong way—"

"I believe Madelyn is fully capable of deciding who to spend her time with, Commander," John replied, shutting Owen up immediately. The latter nodded slowly, eyeing both of them carefully, as though coming to the conclusion that he couldn't say anything to make Madelyn change her mind. Then he turned away without another word and downed the contents of his glass before exiting the restaurant.

Madelyn let out a breath and looked back at John. His jaw was clenched and his fingers had clenched into a fist on the table, as though he was attempting to smother his anger.

"Wow, that was unbelievable. I'm so sorry—"

"You have no reason to apologize for him," he said, matching her gaze.

She pursed her lips and ran her fingers through her hair. Owen had completely ruined their date, and now Madelyn felt an unspoken space separating her from John again. Only his confident gaze slowly drew her back in.

She couldn't shake the feeling that her friendship with Owen was doomed. If he reacted that way to seeing her with John, how could she ever convince him that she still wanted him around? How could she ever convince him that she didn't need to be in love with him to spend time with him?

She was torn from her thoughts when her communicator chimed. Wincing at herself for forgetting to turn it off, she retrieved it from her bag and saw Kelly's id glowing onscreen. She couldn't ignore her friend. Madelyn hadn't even told her what she was doing, because she hadn't wanted Kelly to do what she always did when a new guy entered her life: freak out, pull five outfits out for her to wear, and ramble on about the relationship's potential future.

She looked back at John sheepishly. "I should take this. I'll only be a moment."

He raised an eyebrow but nodded and she quickly pulled on her coat, grabbed her bag, and stood up from the table. She felt like she was ditching him and each step towards the door made her feel more and more guilty. This night couldn't get any worse.

She answered the call as she pushed through the glass door, and then tucked her other hand into her coat, wandering a little ways away from the resturaunt so she wasn't in the way of anyone who wanted to go inside.

_"It rang so many times I wasn't sure you'd answer,"_ said Kelly. _"What are you up to?"_

"Just out with a friend," Madelyn replied. "What's up?"

_"Wait a minute, you never go out on Mondays. Are you on a date?"_

Madelyn pursed her lips. "Maybe."

_"Oh my god, who is it? Is it that Starfleet officer, John Harrison?"_

Madelyn didn't respond to that, her tongue prodding the inside of her cheek.

_"Oh my god it is! Well, you'll have to give me the full scoop as soon as you get home. Oh wait, that's assuming you are coming home tonight—"_

"Kelly! First date. Not happening."

The woman on the other end snorted.

"Look, I left him in the restaurant to answer this. What's up?"

_"You're not very good at dates, Maddy. You should've told me. I would've made sure you left your phone at home."_

"Are you going to tell me everything I'm doing wrong now? You called me."

Madelyn could almost hear her roommate's eyes rolling. _"Fine. I was calling you because someone came by the flat earlier asking about you. Said they had something important they needed you for. I said you were out and gave them your number—"_

Madelyn stepped out of the way of a large obvious group of tourists as they wandered past. "You know you have a really bad habit of giving strangers my phone number. What did they want?"

_"Oh, he didn't say exactly. It was all rather vague."_

"Starfleet?"

_"No, nothing like that. No uniform. He was an older chap, white hair, bit tall, didn't say who he was or anything. He gave me a number to contact him with, if you want it."_

For some reason, Madelyn didn't like the sound of it. She recalled all of John's warnings to her about the people who had killed her grandfather, how they could potentially seek her out as well, for a reason he had yet to reveal to her, if he even knew.

"Look, Kelly, I appreciate your trying to help but—Ow!"

A white-haired man brushed past her in his rush across the square and Madelyn felt a sharp stinging sensation in her neck. She reached up to feel for the source but found nothing. When she lowered her hand, there was a tiny pinprick of blood on her fingers.

_"You alright?"_

"Uh, yeah, fine. Anyway, Kelly, next time don't just give anyone my phone number who shows up at the flat. I know you're trying to be helpful but…" She paused feeling slightly dizzy for a moment. "It's really not a good idea."

_"Right, sure, well I'll let you get back to your date then. Don't stay out too late, but if you do,"_ she giggled then, _"be sure to have a good time."_

Now Madelyn was the one rolling her eyes, then immediately blinked as her head began to throb. Another dizzy spell made her reach for a streetlight post to steady herself. She shut her communicator and dropped it into her bag. The throbbing in her head was escalating.

She carefully made her way back inside the restaurant, black spots appearing in her vision. She hadn't even had that much to drink tonight. The room spun in front of her as faint ringing met her ears. She thought she saw John stand up in the back and quickly make his way towards her, but she could barely make out his face because her vision was so distorted. Her stomach turned and a wave of nausea hit her as her headache grew steadily worse.

John's hand on her back guided her outside and she clutched at his arm to steady herself as the world rocked and dilate around her. She shut her eyes and reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose, but it didn't do any good. The ringing in her ears grew worse, blocking everything out until it became a roar. She stumbled again, expecting the ground to come rushing up to meet her until John's hand became an arm around her waist. She thought she heard his voice in the distance, but she was too lost in a dark fog to make any sense of his words.

Her last coherent thought went back to the pinprick of pain she'd felt on her neck, right after she'd bumped shoulders with a white-haired stranger.

* * *

_**Thank you so much for reading, I'll try to post chapter 6 in a week, but due to the holiday it may be longer. So if you're in the states, be sure to have a lovely Thanksgiving, and if not, have an equally amazing week nonetheless! Also don't forget to leave review if you want xD**_


	6. You Have My Eyes Now

**_A/N: Hello! I'm so sorry I made you all wait longer for this chapter than I'd originally intended. I had a lovely Thanksgiving holiday and in the meantime was focused on finishing Nanowrimo, which I won two days early!_**

**_I hope you enjoy this chapter! Feel free to leave feedback :)_**

* * *

**Chapter 6 – You Have My Eyes Now**

* * *

Khan held Madelyn tightly under his arm, carefully pulling her barely conscious body from the cab outside her flat. He checked her sluggish pulse again, and was only satisfied because it had steadied.

Kelly rushed out of the flat to meet him, stuttering through a string of worried thoughts, and followed him inside as he laid Madelyn in her bed. Annoyed at the girl's persistence, Khan asked her to retrieve a first aid kit and then he ushered her from the room, reassuring her that Madelyn was going to be fine.

And she _was_ going to be fine, but for now Khan needed a blood sample. Whatever was running through Madelyn's veins had done a fine job of knocking her out. Too fine of a job for someone whose slender wrist hadn't cracked in his grip. The drug could have been a variant of a highly concentrated Flunitrazepam, but he would need to take a sample to a lab to have it tested. He needed to find out what had done this to her, and who had administered it, and once he had done that, he would confirm his suspicions about her lineage.

He sat on the bed beside her and rolled up her sweater sleeve to her elbow. Then he filled the syringe from her vein, carefully packed it away in an insulated tin and slipped it into his coat pocket. He rolled her sleeve down, then felt for her pulse again. It had stabilized and was not as faint as it had been before. She would most likely wake up in a few hours.

Upon seeing Madelyn stumble back into the restaurant after taking her call, Khan knew immediately that something was wrong. Anger had quickly overcome him as he hailed a cab to take her home, and he berated himself for not considering that there was still someone out there with potentially harmful intentions for Madelyn. He immediately ruled out the wine; he would have noticed the difference. There was the possibility that someone in Starfleet was trying to send him a message, or that Commander Gallagher had something to do with it due to his personal sentiment regarding Madelyn. Khan ruled him out as well when he considered that Owen would never intentionally harm her, nor would he have ever known to use such a strong dosage. One dose of an average date rape drug was far too small to knock someone like her out so completely; it could cause a slight headache maybe, but not total unconsciousness. No, whoever had done this knew who Madelyn really was, which meant they potentially knew who Khan was as well. They could also potentially be responsible for the murder of William McGivers.

Her grip on his coat in the cab had receded and he'd kept a gentle hand on her neck, feeling for her pulse, ready to act at the slightest waver in her vital signs. Instead, she'd mumbled something incoherent and drifted off to sleep with her head against his shoulder.

Someone had been watching him, and watching her, and they were one step ahead of him tonight. Khan never let anyone get a step ahead of him and this action, taken directly in his face, was an outrage.

The worst part was he could do nothing about it, because Admiral Marcus had him under surveillance ninety percent of the time. However, he was certain he could continue to keep Madelyn close to him without Marcus getting suspicious, but he would need to keep her even closer than she already was. After the incident tonight, he knew it wouldn't be hard to pursue her the way he wanted.

Despite his inability to tell her the truth, Khan knew this wouldn't be too difficult. She'd given him clear signs of being interested in him. He would treat their relationship as a casual affair for now; that was what John Harrison would do. Perhaps later, she could become something more useful. If she was genetically a part of his family, then she could contribute to it as well.

Regarding his plan to smuggle his crew to safety in the torpedoes he'd designed for Marcus, Khan was confident everything was falling seamlessly into place. In a few months time he would have his crew, a ship of his own design, and Madelyn.

* * *

When Madelyn opened her eyes to the darkness of her bedroom, she tried to sit up and was sacked with a throbbing headache. She groaned and lay back for a minute, pinching the bridge of her nose as though that would help. She felt like she had a hangover, but she couldn't recall having too much to drink.

As her headache ebbed, the events of the night before came rushing back to her in blurry bits and pieces. She'd gone out to meet John, they'd shared some wine, Owen had abruptly shown up and ruffled feathers, and then just as he'd stormed away without punching John in the face, Kelly had called because Madelyn had forgotten to turn off her communicator.

After that, things were hazier. She remembered walking out of the restaurant, talking to Kelly a bit about something unimportant, and then she'd begun to feel sick. She must have passed out at some point after that. She vaguely recalled John's face as she stumbled towards him, then suddenly realized he'd probably been the one to bring her home in this state.

Her face grew hot as she thought about what she must have looked like.

But damn. That had been the worst first date ever.

Feeling less like she'd been run over by a starship, Madelyn swung her feet around to the floor and carefully sat up, noticing the time on the clock by her bed read 7 am. She groaned again. Assuming she hadn't slept through the day, today was Tuesday and she had to teach in two hours.

She quickly dialed Naomi at the university and had her class canceled. It was the first time all semester she'd needed to do this, so she wasn't worried about her reputation. Besides, finals were coming up and she was sure her students would appreciate the break to study, or sleep.

When Naomi asked her if she was alright, Madelyn brushed it off, said she'd had a rough night, and that she'd be fine. She didn't want to go into the details when she wasn't half sure herself of what had happened.

She took a long shower and felt a little better after that. Her head still hurt though, so she lay back down with some hot tea. Kelly came in to check on her and Madelyn tried to brush her off too, but her roommate wasn't having it.

"Do you know who drugged you?"

Madelyn gave her a second look. "What makes you think I was drugged?"

"John. He brought you home last night, made sure you were alright. He said you'd been drugged. You should call him, Maddy. Maybe he knows who did it."

Madelyn glanced over at her communicator when it buzzed on the bed. "I may not have to," she said, half to herself. John's name flickered on the device's small screen. She ignored Kelly's knowing look and answered it.

"Hey."

_"I would have stayed there with you, but Admiral Marcus needed me."_

"Don't worry about it," she replied. "I only have a massive hangover."

_"You were drugged, Madelyn."_

She bit her tongue at his tone to keep from responding sarcastically again.

_"There were traces of a highly concentrated substance in your blood I've never seen before."_

"You took my blood while I was unconscious?"

_"It was necessary. I needed to know who did this to you."_

"Did you figure it out?"

There was a pause. _"No."_

She had a suspicion but she didn't want to admit it and she couldn't even believe she was considering this. "Well," she said after a moment. "Thanks for bringing me home."

_"Madelyn, I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't Owen."_

"Why would I be thinking that?" she lied. Damn, he was good at reading her, even without seeing her face.

_"Given what he said to us both at the restaurant, I assumed you would suspect his involvement."_

Madelyn rolled her lips together in thought. "I guess he wouldn't go that far. He doesn't want me to get hurt."

_"I can assure you I will never hurt you."_

She smiled a bit. "I know."

_"When you're feeling better, I'd like to see you again. Today if that's possible. I'm leaving again for the Io Facility tomorrow and I don't know how long I'll be gone."_

"Oh, well, sure." Madelyn forced herself to sit up to see how she was feeling, groaning faintly when her head throbbed. "What about lunch? I could meet you today—

_"Perhaps it would be better if you stayed home. I'll stop by later."_

"Oh, alright. I guess I'll see you later then."

_"Yes. In the meantime, I want you to rest."_

Madelyn lay back in the sheets. "Doing so now. Oh, John. Thank you."

_"I'll see you later."_

He ended the call and Madelyn pulled a blanket over herself and slowly drifted back to sleep.

* * *

When she woke a few hours later, Kelly was gone, and so was her headache. Madelyn forced herself out of bed, feeling slightly better than she had felt before she'd gone to sleep at seven in the morning. The sun was shining through the apartment's windows, and the floor was freezing cold. Feeling cold and weak, Madelyn slipped on a sweater over her tank top and socks over her leggings and went into the kitchen to grab something to eat.

There was a knock on the front door and she wondered why John would show up so early, but when she opened it she was taken by surprise.

"Owen."

He stood there sheepishly his hands in his jacket pockets. "Hey Maddy. Um, Kelly told me about what happened last night."

"Kelly told you." Madelyn leaned on the doorjamb, her tongue in her cheek. "Right. Well, come in." She turned away from the door and grabbed her plate of eggs from the counter, sitting down at the kitchen table. Owen stood there for a moment, glancing around the apartment, then joined her reluctantly.

"So, are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded wordlessly, spooning scrambled eggs into her mouth with a blank expression.

"I'm sorry about last night. I may have overreacted," he said.

Madelyn gave him a look.

"Look I'm just worried about you seeing him, alright?"  
She frowned. "Why? I thought you said Kelly told you about last night."

"You don't think John was responsible?"

"Owen, he was inside the restaurant when I started feeling bad. He brought me home."

"You hardly know him."

"What do you have against him?"

He sighed. "It's complicated."

Madelyn worried on her lower lip, considering why he'd say something so vague. John hadn't given her a single reason to suspect he had negative intentions; in fact everything he had done for so far had been comforting in a way that made her want to be with him. Owen could still be jealous, and was just trying to compensate for his behavior last night. That would explain why he was still trying to convince her not to spend time with John.

She reached over and put a hand on his arm, gazing at him firmly. "You know I've said this before, but I'll say it again because you need to understand. You're my friend. I trust you, but lately you've been acting like I'm putting distance between us, and it's really making me wonder about you." She was tempted to include John's comment about his "instability," but decided it would be better to leave John out of this wherever possible. "I don't want to lose your friendship over this, Owen."

Owen looked down at her hand and smiled faintly, then he took it in his. "And I just want what's best for you. After William died, I felt like I needed to be responsible for you."

"I understand," she said, nodding. "But maybe what's best for us both is to move on. We're not kids anymore. You need to let me make my own choices when it comes to my relationships."

She saw his jaw clench and then he let her hand go. She felt as though a slight burden had been lifted off her shoulders, but she didn't see that in Owen's face. In fact, all she saw was tension.

"You know I'm not happy about this, Maddy. I care about you. If you want to spend your time with him, all I have to say is to be careful. He's not who you think he is."

"And who is he? You said yourself I barely know him." _Funny, John had said the same thing, _she thought.

"Like I said, it's complicated. Doesn't matter for now, I suppose. We're leaving for more work off-planet tomorrow. Maybe it's for the best." He stared down at the tabletop. "But Marcus is transferring me to San Francisco after we get back, maybe through the end of March."

"Oh. So this could be good for your career."

Owen nodded, drumming his fingers on the tabletop.

"I'm happy for you," she said.

"It's just a transfer. San Francisco is Starfleet headquarters. This isn't anything to be excited about."

_Actually it is, because this means he won't be in London for a while_. Madelyn kept her expression neutral despite the thoughts whirling through her head. "Come on, don't be such a downer on yourself."

He smiled again. "Can I be honest with you about something?"

She nodded.

"When I realized you were spending time with Commander Harrison, I got really jealous. It made me realize how I felt about you, Maddy. I found myself talking about you all the time when I was near him. I thought I could make him jealous that I knew so much about you, because we're friends."

Madelyn held his gaze, listening intently.

"I was jealous of how quickly you'd accepted him into your life, and I still can't say I'm going to support you. I don't like him. I've never liked him, actually, and I don't like who he is or what he claims he's doing. If I said anything more, I could be dishonorably discharged for revealing classified intelligence." He chuckled for a moment, then grew serious again. "I don't care what he's done for you or what he tells you. You can't trust him. Like I said before, you need to be careful."

Madelyn was shocked by his honesty, but a piece of her suspected he was catering to her sense of their relationship. Regardless of what he claimed, she knew there would always be a part of Owen that cared for her in another way.

"You obviously don't know the side of him that I know," she said. "But I guess that shouldn't surprise me, given some of the things he's said about you. Please don't take anything personally. I really appreciate your honesty. I just hope we're not leaving this on the wrong foot."

Owen nodded. She could see in his eyes that he was hurt, but there was nothing she could do about that. He'd done that to himself.

Madelyn stood up with him and walked him to the door, keeping a slight distance from him in case he tried something. Not that she expected he would.

"I'll be flying out tomorrow," he said. "You don't have to say goodbye, but just give me a call sometime, let me know how you're doing."

She offered him a shielded smile. "I will."

He nodded, appearing less sure of himself than ever as he left the apartment. He looked back at her twice before he disappeared down the corridor, but Madelyn was relieved he was gone and would be staying gone, hopefully for several months.

She went back inside and texted Kelly, berating her for blabbing to Owen about something Madelyn felt was a private matter. At least Owen had acted reasonably today. Last night, she wasn't sure what had gotten into him, and even after he'd explained himself, she still wasn't sure she believed him.

* * *

A few hours later, after grading some last minute assignments from a few students, Madelyn was feeling stronger and stronger. Her headache was completely gone and she no longer felt as weak as she had earlier. Of course it could have been her coffee.

She jumped when the door opened suddenly and John walked into the room.

"It was unlocked," he said, probably noticing her look of suprise.

She smiled faintly as he crossed the room slowly, his eyes dropping briefly to her work on the table. Why was it that every time she was with him she felt like he scrutinized her every action? It was as though he didn't want to miss _anything_.

"Owen came by this morning," she said, gathering up her PADDs. "He wanted to apologize for last night."

"Were you alright with him being here?" he asked.

She stood up with her mug of coffee and armful of PADDs and headed towards her bedroom. "It was fine. He was fine." She put the PADDs away and when she turned, John's expression was completely unreadable, as usual.

"You don't want to tell me the truth. I see. What did he say?"

Madelyn pursed her lips and headed past him, back into the kitchen and for the refrigerator. "Do you want anything?"

"No."

She sighed as she hid her face behind the fridge door, her fingers grazing idly among various containers of drinks. "He told me what I already knew. That he has feelings for me, that he cares about me. Don't get me wrong, he's still my friend, but I think I might have hurt him."

Her throat began to tighten. She hadn't realized it would affect her so personally.

"You did what needed to be done," he replied, his voice noticeably nearer than it had been.

Why was this so hard to do? She thought she'd accomplished something by subtly telling Owen to back off, giving him the hint in a nice way. Instead, knowing that she'd hurt him had only hurt her as well. She was still afraid she was going to lose him.

She shut the fridge and turned to see John standing far more closely to her than she was expecting. She hadn't even heard him walk over. She fingered her cold coffee mug and took a long sip, feeling his eyes on her every movement.

"He said a lot of things about you, but I didn't believe him," she said after a moment. "He's just playing a jealousy game."

"What did he say?" John repeated, softly, almost as though he was purring. Madelyn swallowed at his proximity. She had to tilt her chin up to look at him now. She suddenly didn't have the courage to say any of this out loud when she was just coming to grips with it herself.

"All the same things," she answered. "That you're dangerous, that I shouldn't trust you and all that. He's convinced and he won't tell me why. Maybe it's just his way of coping, I don't know…"

Madelyn trailed off, not wanting to talk about it anymore, her eyes landing on his lips more than once. He was so close to her she could feel the warmth emanating from him, in stark contrast to the cold fridge she found herself backed up against.

"But you know I trust you," she added quickly. She glanced down when John's hand wrapped around her mug, pulled it out of her grip and set it down on the counter beside her, subsequently taking her hand in his and gently holding it against the counter so that if she'd wanted to move, she couldn't. "Remind me why you wanted to come over today," she murmured.

"I'm leaving tomorrow for an undisclosed amount of time," he said quietly, sliding his fingers up her wrist, pushing away the sleeve of her sweater so his thumb could slide across her skin. "After last night, I thought you would want to see me again."

Madelyn looked back up at him, biting hard on the inside of her lip until she winced. "About last night, by the way. Thank you." Her voice was instinctively quieter because of his proximity. "If I'd been alone, who knows what could've happened…"

She saw his eyes flit away from hers for a second just long enough for her to make the decision that she wanted to do this.

"Let's not dwell on what might have been," John murmured.

His voice was so low she swallowed. She rolled her lips together to moisten them, then promptly rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. He responded to her immediately, tightening his fingers around her palm, sliding his other hand around her waist. Madelyn reached up and wrapped her free arm around his neck, pulling him down so she didn't have to strain to reach his mouth. His lips were soft and warm and gentle. It was the first time she'd kissed anyone like this since before her husband died, and it was fantastic.

John pressed her back against the fridge, his hand on her waist bunching up her sweater. She fought to breath and took his lips again, her heartbeat speeding up when he shifted, pressing her up against the fridge, his body preventing her from escaping if she'd wanted to. His hand released hers and skirted up her arm and over her shoulder, sliding around her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, his thumb brushing her cheek. She was getting lost in the way his mouth fit against hers, the way his tongue slid between her lips and made her suck in a breath.

The sound of the front door being opened tore Madelyn back to reality. They broke apart, but John's hand still cupped her face. His eyes dipped to her lips even when Kelly passed by. The blonde paused to look at them, then hurried away wordlessly into the apartment.

Madelyn realized how hard she was breathing. She bit her bottom lip, frustrated with Kelly's untimely arrival, and because of the way John was still touching her despite the interruption.

Kissing him had kindled something inside her that she'd forgotten she had. She'd known she was attracted to him, but this… this was a whole new level of need. She swallowed as John's hand slid away from her cheek and down her neck, his thumb tracing the contours of her throat until it reached her collarbone, and then he hesitantly pulled away.

It probably wasn't a good idea. It would be too much too soon, and if she tried to start something now, there was no telling if either of them would be able to turn back. Plus Kelly was home, and that could get awkward.

Madelyn straightened and took a breath, running her fingers through her hair. "That was, um… that was good." She found herself smiling because she sounded like an idiot. "I haven't done that in a while," she said quietly. She realized his other hand was still around her waist, and fought the urge to pounce on him all over again. She wondered if she could slide away from between him and the fridge without making it seem awkward, and then his communicator went off.

She saw his jaw clench when he read the message, and then he took a step back, giving her some space. A wave of disappointment crashed over her.

"Marcus changed his plans on me again," he said quietly, looking back at her. "Stay in contact with me in case anything happens."

Madelyn nodded knowingly. She didn't want a repeat event of last night.

She hoped he would reach out and take her hand or give her another kiss. Instead he quietly and quickly exited the apartment, throwing her a look that made her even more frustrated.

The moment the door clicked shut, Kelly burst into the room. Madelyn didn't get but a second to breathe normally.

"You don't have to say anything, I could completely tell. You kissed!" The blonde was practically squealing. "Who kissed who first though? That's important, Maddy."

She didn't answer, recalling that she'd kissed him first, and couldn't think of why that was important.

"Are you going to keep seeing him? I mean, Owen told me some pretty nasty things the other day—"

Madelyn held up a hand in Kelly's face. "Don't believe a word that comes out of that man's mouth. He's got issues and he's not giving them up any time soon, that's all I know for sure."

Kelly was quiet and seemed a bit hurt. Madelyn sighed.

"I didn't mean that, I just…" she paused seeing Kelly's chiding expression. "Oh, nevermind.

"I'm happy for you," Kelly said with a smile. "He seems like a good guy."

Madelyn returned her look, biting her lip again as she played the kiss over in her mind. The first of many more to come, she hoped.

* * *

The taste of coffee lingered in Khan's mouth as he quickly left Madelyn's apartment. That had not been unexpected, but all the same, the fact that she had made the first move surprised him. He shouldn't have been surprised; he merely wasn't used to women being so forward in his presence.

If Madelyn knew who he really was, she probably never would have kissed him like that. Therein lay his advantage, but he knew in the future his deception would have consequences. A problem he would have to wait to address.

Marcus' timing was no less frustrating, but Khan had no choice other than to submit. After eight months of practical slavery, tolerated only for the sake of his crew, he'd grown accustomed to a lack of volition while pretending to respect Marcus. It was a necessary charade to mask his true intentions, the finalization of which was rapidly approaching.

His torpedoes were practically complete, ready to securely house his crew. Depending upon his location when the time approached, he could have them beamed directly onto the Vengeance, or to a safe location unknown to Starfleet, an abandoned underground bunker in the western United States originally constructed for use during the Eugenics Wars, and used by both sides. Once his crew was awake and had regained their strength, he would exact vengeance on Admiral Marcus and the rest of Starfleet for allowing these things to befall his people in the first place.

Those were the first necessary steps to be taken. After that, his plans would depend on the response received from Starfleet.

For now, he waited, he worked submissively for Marcus, and with mounting frustration, he attempted to uncover the identity of the person responsible for drugging Madelyn and killing her grandfather. Whoever they were, they'd done a remarkable job of covering their tracks.

If Madelyn worked for Starfleet, he could have found a way to bring her with him or get her reassigned to Section 31, anything to keep her within his reach. Instead, he'd settled with hiring one of 31's agents to trail her, a request easily kept under Marcus' radar. She would be fine while he was away.


	7. Acquiescence

**_Hello! I'm pleased to present chapter 7, in which things heat up, in more ways than one I might add. That said, if you're not an adult, proceed with caution as this story's M rating becomes applicable starting now._**

**_A note on my Sherlock fic which I may or may not have spoken with some of you about previously... I completed the first draft of it for Nanowrimo, but I've decided to postpone it simply because season 3 is on its way and my story merges with Sherlock's return to London. As a result I wanted to keep my plot and characterization somewhat in line with the new episodes coming up so obviously there's no way I'm comfortable completing it just yet. It could be several months before I'm ready to publish it, though I will say it's got a title (Company Under Cover) and hopefully a believable romance xD_**

**_Anyway, back to The Monster's Mask. I hope you all enjoy this! Again there is M rated sexual content in this chapter so please if you're underage, proceed with caution._**

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**Chapter 7 – Acquiescence **

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"Madelyn McGivers, you've been in London a year and I'm only just seeing you now because it's Christmas Eve! How dare you!"

Carol Marcus grinned through her feigned scolding and pulled Madelyn into a tight hug before letting her into her flat.

"You've been in San Francisco," Madelyn pointed out as she pulled off her coat, revealing a simple black dress with a dusting of sparkles.

Carol nodded repentantly and pulled Madelyn into the central space of her flat where other party guests were chattering over drinks. The room smelled like evergreen and pumpkin spice, and strings of old fashioned twinkling lights wound themselves around an artificial tree in the corner.

"I only came back to London because I wanted to see my father for Christmas," said Carol. "Unfortunately, he was _unavailable_." She snagged a glass of sparkling water off the bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of her flat. Then she grinned. "I'm not going to ruin Christmas by talking about him. I want to hear about this fling of yours."

Madelyn feigned a glare as she poured herself a glass of wine. "How did you know?"

"I ran into your flatmate last week. Kelly, was it? Anyway she talked my ear off about some John Harrison guy, and I have to say Maddy, it's about time."

"I swear she doesn't know when to keep quiet about things. I hope her family is enjoying her right now."

Carol made an amused noise into her drink. Glass of wine in hand, Madelyn joined Carol on a plush bench by the artificial fireplace and pulled off her high heels.

"I don't know why I wore these things. I hate them."

"You only dress up like this once a year, Maddy. I dare say you should keep them on."

Madelyn tossed the glossy black pumps away so they landed underneath the plump Christmas tree nearby. "They look better there."

Carol put a hand on Madelyn's knee. "John Harrison."

Madelyn felt a grin playing with the corners of her mouth and took a sip of wine. "It's a little complicated. We met originally because he had business with my grandfather. He was doing an investigation or something; I'm not quite sure. Top secret Starfleet stuff your dad would probably know about. Anyway, that evening, my grandfather was killed…"

"I'm so sorry about William. I wish I could have made it to the funeral, but work—"

Madelyn shrugged. "You couldn't help it, I understand. John was convinced it was related to his investigation, but he never told me why." She took a long, slow sip and let the liquid slide down her throat. "I saw him several more times before I realized I was attracted to him." She paused, then said slowly, "I've never met anyone quite like him."

Carol smiled mischievously. "Have you kissed?"

Madelyn ran her tongue vaguely along her bottom lip just remembering what it had been like, grinned at the memory of it, and then ducked her face into her wine glass.

"Oh my god, Maddy. Don't be such a prude," Carol whispered, grinning ear to ear.

Madelyn swallowed a large amount of wine before looking at her friend again. "Until Kelly came home, and then your dad called right at the same moment."

"Oh!"

"Would've gone further otherwise."

Carol raised her eyebrows and lowered her voice. "It was that good?"

"It was fantastic," Madelyn replied with a straight face.

"So why aren't you with him tonight?"

Madelyn sighed. "He's off-world, working."

"On Christmas Eve?" Carol sounded indignant, and then like she was hit with the obvious. "Oh, he works for my dad."

Madelyn met her gaze knowingly and shrugged. "He didn't say when he'd be back, but apparently this is a normal thing for him. Being called at the last minute, never really having time to himself."

"Long distance relationship at its worst," said Carol.

Madelyn nodded. "There is one plus to this. You remember Owen, right?"

"Yeah, I do. I know he's had feelings for you since grade school. How is he taking this, your being with John?"

Madelyn grinned bitterly and ran her fingers through her loose hair. "He finally admitted _out loud_ that he had feelings for me, the same day John and I kissed. It was getting to the point with him where I had to tell him to back off. I didn't want to hurt him, but I guess it was inevitable."

"You said there was a plus side?"

"Right. He works pretty closely with John apparently, so when John's away, so is Owen."

"I suppose that works out for you in a way. You won't have him pressing into your life when you don't want him to."

Madelyn nodded. "You know how he can be. Overly assertive, pushy even. There's no changing his mind."

Now Carol was the one smiling bitterly. "I can see Owen refusing to stay in the friend zone."

Madelyn sipped her wine and snagged a cookie off a passing platter of desserts. "Yeah, but he also told me he's being transferred to San Fran after he gets back to Earth. Orders from your dad."

"Good," said Carol. "I'm assuming you don't have any plans to leave London anytime soon."

"Nope. The university is treating me extremely well. I was just a lecturer this past term, but the department head is considering giving me a fulltime position as a professor in January."

"Well, congratulations!" Carol raised her slender glass of sparkling water. "This calls for a toast."

Madelyn grinned and their glasses pinged.

"To a new year of new opportunities," said Carol.

"And new relationships," Madelyn added.

Carol matched her smile and raised her glass to her lips, but stopped when the front door buzzed. "I'll get it," she said, keeping her other guests from being bothered. Madelyn leaned back against the cushioned seat and savored her wine, noting the hints of fruit and spice that lingered on her tongue. And then her mouth went dry when she saw who Carol had let walk through the door.

_"I'm sorry,"_ Carol mouthed.

Owen Gallagher sauntered through the flat, his gaze set on Madelyn. He was dressed in his usual gray Starfleet uniform, but his blond curls were slicked back more than normal.

"Merry Christmas, Maddy."

She remained in her seat, staring up at him with unmasked displeasure that she knew was unnecessary. He was back far earlier than he'd said he would be.

"Owen, I wish you'd warned me before showing up," said Carol. "I don't know that we have enough drinks to go around now."

Owen didn't even glance at Carol. "I'm not here for drinks."

Madelyn had two choices, and the first one was looking like it wouldn't work. He was so intently focused on her that she realized she had no choice to but to deal with this face to face, or rather eyes to chest. Now she regretted removing her heels.

Regardless of Owen's intentions, it was Christmas and she wasn't going to let his unexpected arrival ruin it.

"We need to talk," she said quietly. Owen nodded and followed her out of the center of the party, into a quiet room faintly illuminated by a wide view of London's lights through panoramic windows. Madelyn swept her eyes across the view as she ran through a list of potential remarks she could make to Owen, but all of them were wiped away when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, shrugging out of his grip even when he protested. At least he wasn't very strong.

"Maddy, you never called me."

Maybe she was angry because John hadn't contacted her. Since Owen was back, the obvious conclusion was to assume that John was also.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice low. "Carol didn't even invite you. We thought you were still working."

"Got back this morning. Had some food at work, and when I heard about Carol's party, I knew you'd be here."

"You knew I'd be here," Madelyn repeated, incensed. Could John know she was here as well? God, she hoped so. "Why did you come here?" She regretted her tone when his expression softened, his blue eyes taking on an offended gleam in the room's dim light.

"I thought since you hadn't seen John in a few weeks, that maybe you'd be over him a bit. I thought I'd try—"

"Over him?! You thought I'd be over him?! Are you really that desperate, Owen? Did nothing I said to you before even click in that funny little head of yours?" She reached up and pushed a finger into his forehead, forcing him to take a step backwards. The action shocked him and Madelyn again berated herself. She could feel negative emotion welling up inside her and she wasn't sure she could hold it back.

So when Owen reached out and put his hands on her arms, Madelyn forced herself not to shrug away from him again. His face was killing her.

"Maddy, just hear me out, alright?"

She sighed. "Whatever you have to say, it's not going to make me change my mind."

Owen lowered his voice. "Can't you just slow down and maybe consider what you're getting into? John Harrison is not someone you want to be involved with like this."

She didn't even have a reaction. It was just the same thing he always said and it was getting old. "We've had this conversation before."

"You'd be better off with me," he replied quietly.

Madelyn let out a single barking laugh. "Of course I would. Because that's what you want. You want me. I'm sorry, Owen, but I don't see you that way!" This time she didn't fight the urge to escape his grasp and brushed past him, making for the lit room full of people. She paused and face him. "Maybe you need to reconsider what this relationship is," she said, waving her finger back and forth between them. "Because I thought you were my friend, and I thought you would support me. Obviously I was wrong."

When he advanced on her, she turned and escaped out into the light, making her way through the growing number of people that had gathered to celebrate Christmas. She snatched up her shoes from under the tree and only stopped when Carol grabbed her arm.

"I can make him leave if he's bothering you."

"No, I was just leaving," she replied, not taking her eyes off of Owen, who was making his way towards her from across the room. Carol walked her to the door wordlessly, but stopped her before she could get away.

"Maddy, I'm really sorry. I didn't know he would—"

"No, it's fine," Madelyn said quickly, pulling on her coat and sliding her feet into her heels, slightly off-balance. She caught herself against the wall and forced her foot inside the wayward shoe, then whipped her scarf around her neck as Owen came over.

"No, it's not fine, Maddy," he said. "Please don't do this. I _am_ your friend. We can figure this out."

"Figure what out?" Madelyn didn't care that she sounded indignant. She couldn't believe Owen was still trying to talk this over after their quick and brutal argument.

"Madelyn." Carol put a hand on her arm, her expression firm but empathetic. Madelyn clenched her jaw and forced herself to give the woman a hug. It was met warmly, but Madelyn couldn't shake Owen. When they broke apart, Carol still held onto her coat sleeve. "Call me tomorrow. We'll get coffee and talk."

Madelyn smiled with closed lips and stepped outside with Owen at her heels. With both of them out of the middle of Carol's party, Madelyn crossed her arms and did her best to look angry, unafraid to speak her mind now.

"Whatever the hell you think you're doing, it's not going to work," she said.

"I'm not leaving your side until we figure this out," he replied. "I'm not gonna let you go storming off like you always do when you're mad."

Madelyn pressed her lips together in a thin line. She couldn't believe she was going along with this.

When she hailed a cab, Owen climbed in behind her, giving her a look. The ride home was silent, but Madelyn used it as an opportunity to contact John without Owen knowing. There was no way she was going to let Owen into her apartment when she was alone. It wasn't that she mistrusted him, but she'd heard stories of people who were overworked just snapping and attacking those they loved because of unmet emotional issues, and she wasn't about to become a statistic. Not to mention that she was pretty sure Owen was already unstable, at least according to John.

_Owen got to me before you did this time. I need you at my flat asap_, she texted. It occurred to her that she hadn't considered that John might have family with whom he was spending time. And then she felt stupid for not asking him about them. He'd never brought the topic up himself.

His quick response made her communicator chime and she quickly silenced it.

_I'm working. I'm sure you can figure this out on your own._

"Who's that?" Owen peered over at her communicator and she held it away from him so he wouldn't see.

"Just Carol," she lied. God, she hated that she was lying to him now.

And why the hell was John working on Christmas Eve?

_It's Christmas! Take a break and get over here NOW_, she replied.

She knew how that would look, but at this point, when Owen's arm was stretched over the back of her seat, she didn't even care.

By the time they arrived at her apartment building, John still hadn't responded. Owen paid for the cab, then followed Madelyn closely until she reached her door, at which point she turned and glared up at him.

"You wanna talk? We'll do it right here."

"No, maybe we should go inside—"

"Right here, Owen. You said we could figure this out, so let's figure this out."

He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, nodding slowly, then he leaned forward and put a hand on the wall so he loomed over her. Madelyn held her ground.

"I've said all this before, but it bears repeating," he said quietly. "We've known each other for years. I care about you a lot, and I don't want you to get hurt. It's as simple as that."

"Then why can't you understand that I just want to be friends?" Madelyn felt like she was pleading with him. "Is that so hard for you to do anymore?"

She saw his jaw clench and knew his answer before he said anything.

"Yes, it's very hard, Maddy."

She tensed when he brought his other hand up to cup her jaw. "Owen, don't."

"I can't see you with him," he said quietly, his eyes flitting across her face, making her insides squirm. "I don't want you to be with him."

Finally, a straightforward, honest answer that she could absolutely disagree with. She reached up and pulled his hand away from her face, never breaking eye contact.

"Well I do." Her raised voice echoed down the corridor. "And you have no right to tell me I can't."

The door to her apartment opened and they both turned to see John standing in the doorway, eyeing them both. "Is there a problem?"

Madelyn felt a wave of relief wash over her, and Owen straightened, backing a good foot away from her. Madelyn glanced at him, then turned towards John. "Owen was just leaving," she said. "I think we've worked things out." She glanced at Owen again, not even bothering to mask her emotions. She was about to lose another person she cared about, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Owen glared at John, crossing his arms, also doing nothing to mask his own displeasure. Madelyn had never imagined he could harbor so much jealousy when they weren't even in a relationship.

"You know what, _John_?" he spat. "The day Admiral Marcus woke you up, I knew I should've done something about it. It was all illegal from the start. You'll deserve whatever he has in store for you when the time comes. Mark my words." Then he turned to Madelyn, who was staring at him confused and astonished. "I hope you have a happy Christmas, Maddy." He said it without a hint of warmth and it was all Madelyn could do to keep herself from reaching for him, to keep him from stalking away in his anger. But that was exactly what he did and Madelyn knew she'd just lost him for good.

Fighting back tears, she ran a hand through her hair and brushed past John to get into her apartment. She pulled off her coat and dropped it on the floor, and then, in a burst of anger at herself and at Owen, she picked up a ceramic bowl in which she would normally drop her keys, and flung it at the wall.

It shattered, hundreds of tiny pieces showering the floor like broken glass. A small indentation marred the wall where it had struck. Madelyn gazed at the mess with indifference, blowing a lock of hair out of her face. She felt John come up behind her, his coat brushing her legs, his hands sliding around her waist. She pulled away and paced across the room, her heels crunching down on the broken ceramic littering the floor. She rubbed her forehead when she turned, bothered by both Owen's behavior and her own outburst.

"I can't believe…" She trailed off, not even knowing what to say, gritting her teeth to keep her tears at bay. She'd lost him, her friend of years, because she'd been unwilling to reciprocate his feelings. How many more people was she going to lose before the year was up?

"You seem to have worked things out," John said bluntly.

Madelyn's hand dropped from her forehead so she could glare at him. "You weren't much of a help."

John spread his hands out casually. "I work with him. There wasn't much I could've done."

She stomped towards him, able to meet his face head on due to her heels. "You could've at least talked to him, tried to help him understand! What was all that about Marcus 'waking you up' anyway?"

"Figure of speech," he replied.

"I swear he was gonna kiss me before you opened the door. At least you have good timing."

His hands slid around her waist, pulling her gently against him. "Yes, I do."

Madelyn shook her head faintly. "You were working when I texted you. Did you forget that it's Christmas? Don't you have family to be with?"

His face hovered inches from hers. "I have my priorities in line, believe me."

She stared at him, unwilling to comprehend the possibility that he didn't have anyone to spend the holiday with, or rather that he was choosing not to spend it with anyone.

Except now—since they were suddenly kissing each other furiously—her.

His hands slid along her back and down to her waist where they tightened, but Madelyn was too occupied with running her fingers through his short, luxuriant hair to care. She slid her tongue into his mouth, inhaling the faint hint of mint on his breath, suddenly realizing that he was backing her into the kitchen.

When her heels clicked onto the tile, John swiftly lifted her up onto the countertop without difficulty. His hands ran down her sides until he could take hold of her legs, which she willingly parted as he pushed up the fabric of her dress. Her breathing hitched when he dragged his lips along her neck, and then she felt his hand sliding up her bare thigh, his thumb brushing her just the right way that she couldn't help but gasp.

Swallowing at how quickly things were progressing, Madelyn slid her fingers from the back of his head and took hold of his coat in an attempt to push it from his shoulders. She paused when his mouth suffocated her again, his hand squeezing her leg and gradually drawing it up around him. Lost in his kiss, she managed to kick off her shoes and latch her leg up around his coat, disappointed that it remained a barrier between them.

Everything she realized she wanted was simmering just below the surface. She could feel it growing in the pit of her stomach, a heat that could only be satiated by human touch, something she'd gone far too long without.

She shifted closer to him on the countertop, encouraging his hand to continue exploring her while he lined her jaw with soft kisses that made her eyes flutter shut. She swallowed as his hand slid across the inside of her thigh and kept going, the sensation making her bite her lip. Her dress was quickly bunched up around her hips, and then she heard the sound of fabric ripping.

Without warning, John slid a finger gently inside her. She arched at the feeling spreading through her, a throaty moan rising out of her throat. Then his thumb brushed her and she clutched at his jacket, forgetting about trying to remove it. His grip on her leg tightened and she couldn't help but rock her hips against his hand, wanting more. She slid her hands over his broad shoulders, her eyes falling shut as his thumb began to draw circles against her, his single finger soon joined by a second. She groaned and bit her lip when he inserted a third finger, the action causing faint discomfort. Yep, it had been way too long since she'd done this.

He slowed his motions in response, and when she realized this, Madelyn reached up and pulled his face against hers, kissing his lips, and then his jaw and down his neck until she heard a faint groan in the back of his throat. Oh god, that turned her on even more.

She barely had time to register her satisfaction that she'd had that effect on him, however, when his fingers twisted inside of her and his thumb matched the motion outside. The friction he caused against her tiny bundle of nerves was too much to handle and her head rolled back, her bared throat letting loose a louder moan, echoing the tingles of pleasure he was giving her. She focused on breathing as John's teeth descended on her exposed neck and took her skin. There was a stab of pain and then the gentleness of his lips. A faint smile crossed her lips at the thought that he'd just marked her, and then it melted away when his fingers curled within her, sliding further into a place that made her arch towards him again.

She raised her other leg up around him and latched her arms around his neck to give herself more support, then opened her eyes briefly to look at him, until another moan tumbled over her lips. Something tugged at the corner of John's mouth.

She felt her skin growing hot and she knew she was flushed from the heat he was creating in her. His fingers quickened their motions inside her, drawing loud involuntary sounds from her throat that she'd forgotten she could make. Her back arched again. She ached for release. Her climax boiled just beneath the surface, a hot, writhing sensation that slowly overtook her consciousness, a release that was long overdue.

John's thumb swirled around her one more time and sent her crying out over the edge. Her fingers slid up into his scalp for something to hold onto, and a jumble of incoherent noises fell from her lips as she shuddered through the first orgasm she'd had in months. She hissed when his thumb pressed against her again and she felt herself clamping down on his fingers. Another spasm shook her and she leaned her head against his shoulder, shutting her eyes again to steady her breathing. Then his fingers withdrew from her, making her groan.

Madelyn stayed like that for a moment, catching her breath, smelling her sex on John's fingers as he slid them suggestively between his lips. After a moment, she leaned back slightly and kissed him, feeling strangely liberated to be able to taste herself on him. She swallowed, wetting the dryness in her throat caused by the rush of bodily fluids to her lower body, and finally loosened her grip on his scalp. As she stared at him, she knew her lips were parted and her cheeks flushed, and he was obviously enjoying the sight.

She licked her lips again, finally breathing a bit more normally, and felt a smile playing at her lips. She didn't need to say anything to let him know that had been fantastic; she knew it was all over her face. She kissed him again, a small inkling of an idea taking hold in her mind. He stood there between her limp legs, his eyes flitting all over her. She wished she knew what he was thinking.

"Stay with me tonight," she whispered. She reached up and brushed a loose lock of his hair back from his forehead.

"I shouldn't," he said quietly.

"It's Christmas, John."

His gaze still traveled all over her features as she combed her fingers through his hair.

"Just tonight," he replied finally.

She smiled, but before she could respond, he laid a finger across her lips.

"On one condition." His voice had dropped, making her heart jump. She stared at him transfixed as his finger pulled at her bottom lip, then slid agonizingly slowly over her chin and down her neck, until it landed on her sternum, stopped only by the low neckline of her dress. "I want to have you."

The way he used that archaic phrasing to suggest that they take the final step towards a physical relationship was almost too much for her to handle. "So do I," Madelyn whispered.

He pressed the rest of his hand to her skin and slid it up underneath her clothing until he had her bare shoulder in his grasp. She shivered at the cool air that rushed over her when he pushed the fabric away, goosebumps rising across her skin. His eyes dipped to look at the skin he'd revealed, and then his hand slid up her neck and gently took her jaw. "I want you to beg for me," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers but keeping her from kissing him further.

Madelyn's breathing was escalating again. Christ, he knew what he was doing, she thought, as his hand slid around her back and unzipped her dress.

"How badly do you want me, Madelyn?" he purred, his hot breath ghosting her skin and causing more goosebumps. He planted his lips to her neck and sucked at one spot in particular, making her hiss.

"Real bad," she breathed, sliding her hands over his shoulders.

He released her neck from his lips. "Beg," he said more forcefully.

So he preferred to be the dominant one. Madelyn smirked a little. This was going to be interesting.

"On one condition," she murmured as he peeled her dress slowly from her body. "Take off that damn coat."

The corner of John's mouth lifted in a wry smirk and he quickly shed the offending article of clothing. Then he slid his hands underneath her and lifted her from the countertop with little effort, carrying her towards her bedroom while she kissed him feverishly, sliding her hands inside his shirt.

Madelyn had wanted this so badly, and probably for weeks if she was honest with herself, and now she was finally getting it.

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_***fans self* I hope you all enjoyed reading that. Please review! Also I expect the next chapter to be ready within a week or so.**_


	8. Her Ignorance, His Plan

_**A/N: Gah! I'm sorry it took me so long to get this up. I thought I'd be able to update once a week, but it's been more than a week I apologize. Obviously this time of year can be busy so just bear with me until January!**_

_**Thanks to Amatista, Benedict'sZombieGirl, CLTex, Happy Ever After, katieswar123, KnowKnayme, Myystikal, Poodle warriors, and Sorceress of the Trees (and everyone else I probably missed) for reading my work and then bothering to leave reviews! I love you all!**_

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**Chapter 8 – Her Ignorance, His Plan**

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Khan's first instinct upon waking up in Madelyn's bed was to leave quickly and quietly, to return to work at Section 31 as soon as possible so as not to arouse anyone's suspicions—particularly Marcus'. He had yet to be absent once from his usual stations in the secret underground system known to only a small portion of Starfleet, and he was not about to raise red flags. But he had also not received a single moment of absolute trust from anyone until he had met Madelyn. He wasn't going to throw it away so lightly by disappearing from her side before she'd had a chance to wake up on the morning after she'd given herself to him so completely.

She shifted beside him and promptly burrowed herself between his body and the sheets, like a small animal attempting to keep out the morning chill. Khan slid a leg between hers and pulled the comforter up around her body until his arm rested against her back. She was showing sensitivity to the cold in the room, but the muscles in her back were no longer tense, a sign that she'd relaxed inside the new warmth he'd provided her.

He couldn't stay long. This was the first time he hadn't slept in his own flat, and the cameras there would have already alerted Marcus to that fact by now. Should he be verbally reprimanded for not returning to work on time, Khan could easily use a subtle verbal remark to put Marcus in his place. It was Christmas after all, and though Khan had never been fond of celebrating the holidays of his flawed creators, he understood the need to have a day on which work responsibilities could be temporarily set aside. He could play to the Admiral's human sensibilities, if he needed to.

Dawn light gradually filtered through the room's single window as Khan listened to Madelyn's steady breathing, recalling the previous night with satisfaction. After an hour of practically torturing her with his fingers, he'd finally succumbed to his own desperate need and brought them both hurtling over the edge of their climax together. She'd wanted more, and he'd given it, and three hours later she'd fallen asleep beneath him. It was the first time he'd had sex in almost three hundred years, and it quenched something inside him that only made a different fire begin to rise, one he would use to burn a path through Starfleet once his plans to rescue his crew were carried out.

He couldn't quite place his finger on what he was feeling. He knew he didn't _love_ her, but he was also sure that what he felt for her was more than lust. Being with her had always been about more than lust. He had feelings _about_ her, involving her and the future he had planned for her, and for now those would suffice.

Madelyn was his, in more than one sense, but he suspected her own intentions regarding him were far different. Considering the mess of an unrequited relationship that existed between her and Commander Gallagher, Khan decided she should be grateful that he'd ever decided to step into her life in the first place.

Had Owen not been so demanding and determined to make his feelings for Madelyn known—feelings that she had never desired to return—she might never have felt compelled to seek out Khan's willing confidence.

And Khan was going to milk her desire for all it was worth.

Sex with Madelyn was different. She wasn't as strong as the average Augment female, but she _was_ stronger than the average Human female, and as a result struck a desirable balance as someone Khan could see himself desiring more and more. He could overpower her, and she could resist with some result if she wanted. Last night had proven that, but none of it had come as a surprise, since the blood sample he'd tested weeks ago had proven that she was in fact almost twenty percent Augment. That number even accounted for the dilution of Augment genetic material over the course of an estimated six generations of breeding with Humans. The test had proved to Khan not only Madelyn's true ancestry, but that even at its most basic structure, the superiority and resilience of the Augmented compared to the ordinary Human.

All of this was also why he hoped, through continuing to pursue this physical relationship with her, Madelyn would eventually conceive. Of everything involved in this affair, that was his only real concern.

Madelyn had once briefly mentioned in passing that she wasn't able to have children. She had tried for two years with her deceased husband Mark, but nothing had come of it. Every doctor she had seen had declared she was unable to have children. Her medical records even contained a note about a "genetic deviation" with regards to her supposed inability to conceive. But Khan knew better.

She wasn't barren. Unique in its suppressed Augmentations but also neither purely Human nor Augment, Madelyn's genetic structure was fundamentally incompatible with the Human genome and therefore unable to reproduce. The only reason her forebears had been able to reproduce was because they'd had higher amounts of Augment DNA in their cells. Her mother's genes had been so diluted that her body had been unable to handle the atypical genetic load and as a result, she'd died while giving birth to Madelyn. It was a case that any worthy medical scientist would be pulling their hair out to study, and Khan was the only one aware of it.

As one of the first Augments ever created, Khan knew that his own genetic material was pure enough that he could easily remedy this complication. Conception was a real possibility for Madelyn now, and that was how he wanted it.

He would keep all of this to himself for now. The last thing he needed was for her to bail on him and he didn't have the resources nor the ability to force her to stay with him. And she was intelligent enough to not simply fall for a physical seduction without first getting to know him as a person, which was why he'd resorted to gaining her trust by forming some semblance of a relationship with her of her own free will.

In one sense it was absolutely frustrating, the amount of time it had taken for her to be open to his advances, but now that they had come this far, Khan couldn't help but feel a natural sense of possession.

However, there was still something inside him that nagged at him, something that told him his efforts weren't quite as disingenuous as he'd originally intended them to be. He _liked_ Madelyn, at least in the sense that one enjoyed being in the company of another person. Having her for himself had been the next obvious step, but there was still a distinct line between what he'd revealed to her as John Harrison, and what he intended for her as Khan Noonien Singh. He hoped that in time she would come to accept that this was the way things would be, once she understood the lengths he was prepared to take to protect her. She was his now, and there was nothing he wouldn't do to protect her along with his crew.

Madelyn was already in a better position than the rest of his family, but as a result would have to take the brunt of whatever resulted from his plans. There was still a month or more to go before the timing was right. A month he would make good use of while he was still in London.

Khan slid his hand down her back, briefly running his fingers along her spine, recalling the way it had arched and bowed beneath him. Then he firmly pressed his lips to her forehead, causing her to stir while he dragged his fingers up her spine and between her shoulder blades. He pressed into her muscles, massaging her slightly, finding the sensitive spot he'd discovered last night. Madelyn moaned and grabbed his arm in an attempt to stop him, burying her face in the pillows when the room's light greeted her eyes. He rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed with his body, his hands sliding down to her waist.

"I can't stay this morning," he murmured, pulling hair from her face and keeping it behind her ear.

"It's Christmas," she mumbled back, muffled by the pillows.

Khan found it amusing when she reached out behind her to grab for him. He snagged her wrists and held them behind her back, then drug his teeth across her neck and shoulder until he reached the same spot between her shoulders blades.

"Don't you dare," she muttered.

He smiled against her skin and merely kissed it before freeing her and sliding away off the bed. He began to collect his clothing off the floor to get dressed, and she rolled over to watch him, holding a sheet around her body.

"You aren't seriously going to work on Christmas." It was more of an accusation than a question.

"My work is too important not to," Khan replied, pulling on his trousers. She didn't respond. He pulled on his shirt, then noticed the disappointment on her face and immediately went over to her. He leaned down over the bed and took her lips in a kiss that he forced himself to break when he felt arousal stirring. "I'll see you tomorrow," he murmured.

Madelyn reached up to comb his hair out of his face. "What if I have plans tomorrow?"

"Change them."

A smirk played with her lips. "I should've told you. I'm going up to Leeds tomorrow to visit Kelly and her family. They invited me and I couldn't say no."

If things had been different, Khan would've insisted he accompany her.

"How long will you be away?" he asked.

"Until next year."

He didn't appreciate her attempt at humor this time. She caught his reaction and smiled again.

"I'm coming back on January 2nd."

Khan kissed her again, then straightened and combed his fingers through his hair. He didn't like her leaving. He reminded himself that he wasn't in a position where he could force her to stay. But that didn't mean he couldn't devise a means of tracking her.

"Fine. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself."

He left her bedroom to reclaim his coat—which he realized he'd left on the kitchen floor—even as she called for his alias. It had been like a constant stabbing sensation every time she'd called out for John last night, a reminder that he was still at the mercy of Admiral Marcus.

A copy of the old photograph he would need was sitting on a table in the apartment's living room, and he quickly hid it away in his coat pocket. With a discarded piece of Terminium from one of Section 31's labs, and a rewired GPS chip, he could construct something both of them would appreciate. He'd come by later and leave it for her as a sort of sentimental gesture, and in turn it would serve his purposes and leave him to more easily focus on his work without worrying about her while she was away.

As he headed for the apartment's door, he heard her footsteps behind him. All she was wearing was a long t-shirt.

"John, I didn't mean it that way. I didn't think it would matter, and I made these plans weeks ago. I had no idea that we'd…"

She trailed off as he forced himself to smile down at her. "I know," he said. "I'll see you when I can." Then he left her there.

This was going to be more difficult than he'd envisioned. Madelyn may have been his now, but apparently she wasn't aware of the fact, or she was toying with him. Either way, the more time that passed between now and their next encounter, the more Khan knew he was going to crave her.

* * *

It was Christmas morning and she was alone.

Madelyn tossed her bed sheets in the wash, then showered and got dressed and called Carol. She could hear her friend yawning on the other end of the line.

_"It's a bit early, but I could meet you at that quaint place downtown. It's sort of halfway between us."_

Madelyn agreed "So your dad isn't spending Christmas with you?" she asked, though not really surprised.

_"No, he's at work,"_ said Carol _"But then, he's always at work. I've been meaning to go over there at some point. Based on some records I've been looking through, I think there's something going on he doesn't want me to know about, and you know I just can't have that."_

Madelyn smiled. "I'll see you in half an hour."

"Right!"

The quaint place downtown Carol had referred to was exactly that. A hole in the wall amidst sleek architecture and soaring office buildings, Madelyn swore they had the best coffee in London and Carol didn't disagree. Dressed cozily in a chunky cardigan and scarf, with thermal leggings and her favorite boots, Madelyn cradled a hot mug of black coffee in her hands to repel the chill that had soaked into her bones during her short walk from the tube. Carol showed up a few minutes later, dressed just as warmly, her face bright and her nose red from the cold. She quickly ordered a hot drink and joined Madelyn in their favorite nook, comprised of two large plush chairs fixed at the perfect angle so they could see each other and the entirety of the shop. Classic holiday music dating back decades played softly over the intercom, and it seemed they weren't the only people set on spending their Christmas morning in a coffee shop.

"This feels so surreal," Madelyn said after taking a long satisfying sip of coffee.

Carol removed her knit cap and adjusted her hair. "Not having family to spend Christmas with?"

Madelyn nodded. "I guess I shouldn't be complaining, since you've only got your dad and he doesn't seem keen on spending time with you."

Carol shrugged. "He hasn't been keen on anything lately except work. To be honest, he's been rather secretive about his work. He used to not be, but something… changed. It's made for very tough holidays over the past few years." She smiled then. "But I'm happy to spend mine with you this year."

Madelyn welcomed the warm, fuzzy feeling that crept through her, and she knew it wasn't just from her coffee. She took another sip, feeling the steaming hot liquid slide down her throat before she spoke again. "So there was a development after I left your party last night."

"I'm really sorry about that, Maddy. I had no idea Owen would act that way."

Madelyn shrugged. "Don't feel bad. It wasn't your fault."

"I know, but I just wish he'd at least warned me he was coming. That way you could've left before he arrived and avoided him altogether."

"Carol, it's ok, really," Madelyn pressed. "A lot happened last night and I just want you to know that everything is ok now."

She watched Carol's face over the top of her coffee mug as the blonde tried to make sense of what she'd said. But she looked clueless.

"What happened last night?"

Madelyn was slightly surprised her friend didn't pick up on anything, so she told her everything that had happened, up until the point at which John appeared in her apartment doorway. "Owen got really angry then and he just left, and honestly I won't even mind if I never see him again."

"He left me a message last night," said Carol after a moment's thought. "It was confusing and he sounded a bit drunk, to be honest. I hope he's having a good Christmas."

Madelyn shrugged and took a long sip of her drink. "Anyway, after he left, John and I…" She paused, then bit her bottom lip to contain a grin and pulled her scarf away from her neck to reveal several marks. Where there had been five there were now only two, and they'd faded drastically overnight, but nonetheless Carol's eyes widened. "We had a good time," Madelyn said quietly, still smiling.

"It sure appears you did," Carol replied, grinning mischievously.

Madelyn matched her expression. "We went four hours."

Carol's mouth opened wider than might have been appropriate. "Oh my god!"

"I know."

"Wow, Madelyn. Good for you. I'm really happy you were comfortable enough to take that step."

"So am I. Frankly, I'm surprised we hadn't done it sooner."

Carol snorted and buried her face in her mug for a moment. "So I'm assuming he stayed over afterwards."

Madelyn nodded.

"And you're not with him now… why?"

Madelyn rolled her eyes and made the same face Carol had made when talking about her father. "He's working. Whatever your dad has going on, apparently it's important."

Carol shook her head in disbelief. "Important enough to skip Christmas? What a couple of Scrooges. Listen, you and I are going to make this the best Christmas yet, and we're not even going to think about the men in our lives today."

"Sounds good to me," said Madelyn.

Carol nodded curtly in return.

Madelyn set her coffee mug down on the table between their chairs. "The first thing I'm going to do is buy you a shit ton of presents."

Carol laughed. "Put it like that, I'll do the same for you."

True to their word, the two women spent the rest of Christmas shopping for each other, for themselves, and chatting about everything from their careers to the time they spent in school together.

When the sun set, leaving London a freezing mass of metal and concrete and twinkling lights, and the streets dusted with a fine layer of snow, Madelyn returned home, her arms full of bags and packages. She dropped all of these on the floor when she stepped inside her apartment because her attention was drawn to a small box on the table by the door. It was wrapped in plain brown paper and carried no sign of an attempt to decorate, but there was a handwritten note underneath it.

_I regret that I couldn't be with you today._

_I'll make it up to you as soon as work allows._

_Merry Christmas, Madelyn._

_John Harrison_

With fingers shaking, she quickly unwrapped the box and opened it. At first all she saw was a minimalistic rectangular pendant on a matching silver chain. She held it up, briefly wondering what sort of man John was that he thought he could woo her with jewelry. And then she noticed that the pendant appeared to be a locket. She flipped it open curiously and suddenly took back the thought that John was like every other man.

Carefully set within the metallic casing was a miniaturized version of the photograph she'd spent a small amount of money attempting to restore, the one of her and her grandfather on his boat; except it was no longer grainy or crackly, but in pristine condition. In fact, the photo looked as though it had just been taken yesterday.

Madelyn felt a smile playing at her lips. For all his stoicism, John Harrison certainly knew how to charm.

* * *

The week spent with Kelly in Leeds flew by, and before Madelyn knew it, the spring term was just days away. Luckily, she'd made good use of her ample spare time when Kelly was out with her parents, and all of her lectures and assignments were prepared.

Madelyn was teaching three classes for students in their final undergraduate year, and four classes for first years. The workload would be eased by a T.A. she was supposed to meet the first day of the term, but she was confident that everything would go smoothly. With a promise from the department to promote her in the summer, she couldn't quite believe how quickly her career was escalating, and she couldn't wait to see what her future at the university would have in store for her.

She returned to London with Kelly that Sunday, January 2nd just like she'd promised John. The public trains were bursting to the seams with passengers returning to their jobs after having spent their holidays at home, but for Madelyn, this was returning home.

She helped Kelly with her bags as they made their way out of the station, freezing wind biting through her multiple layers of clothing that she attempted to hold more closely around herself. Waiting for a cab outdoors had been a terrible idea and Kelly ran off to get them hot drinks while they waited.

Adjusting her scarf to fit more snuggly, Madelyn heard a distinctly familiar deep voice that made her heart jump a little. She turned in the voice's direction, and catching sight of his dark hair and tall figure outlined by his typical long coat, she couldn't help but grin.

John made his way through the crowd and pressed in closely when he reached her, his gloved hand sliding around her arm in a gesture that could've only been his version of a public display of affection. Then he pulled her in with his other hand on her back and pressed his mouth to hers, sucking the air from her lungs briefly and practically pulling her off her feet. Madelyn grabbed at his coat to steady herself and laughed softly when he broke the kiss but didn't let her go.

"Maddy, they didn't have the spice you wanted so I—oh."

At Kelly's approach, Madelyn managed to detach herself from John slightly, though his hand remained on her waist when she turned. "Do you mind taking that cab alone?" she asked, offering her roommate a sheepish look.

Kelly's gaze flitted between them, and then she nodded quickly and gathered up her bags as a cab approached. "It's no problem. I'll see you later?"

Madelyn raised her eyebrows suggestively and Kelly grinned. They waved at each other as her cab drove away, and then Madelyn felt John tugging at her hand, her luggage somehow in his grasp now.

"Where are we going?" she pressed. He hadn't spoken a word other than to call her name and now he was pulling her along through the crowd without hesitation. "Hey, John, I missed you too, but can we talk?"

He stopped and whirled on her and she had to take a step back in order to avoid crashing into him. His arm circled her waist and tightened and he dropped his mouth to her ear.

"I'm going to fuck you over and over tonight until your throat is dry from screaming my name."

His voice was practically a growl in his chest and it made Madelyn's heart jump even more. She caught his gaze and noticed how his pupils were dilated. He must have wanted to have her again badly ever since Christmas Eve. The idea that a man could desire her that intensely made something carnal stir deep inside her, and she swallowed.

She quickened her steps to keep up with him as he turned again and continued to pull her through the teeming mass of travelers, until they came to a car waiting on the side. John quickly slid her luggage into the back seat and pointed her to the passenger seat before settling into the driver's side. Madelyn watched how intently he acted, how every move he made was precise and alert, holding an acute awareness of his surroundings as well as each action he took. She recalled how he'd held her down in bed the week before and carefully pressed his mouth to every square inch of her body before finally sliding inside her. And then, when he'd been inside her, his every muscle had been seemingly attuned to her response, adjusting when she needed more, or withholding when she thought she couldn't stand anymore. Like a living, breathing, _perfect_ machine…

Before she realized it, they were driving through London, and she was still watching him.

"You asked where we were going."

His voice shook her out of her lusty daze, and she nodded, glancing around at the passing scenery while attempting to dig her mind out of the gutter. Except she knew he would have joined her there in a flash.

"I've acquired a small flat in the same sector of the city as yours. When I want to see you, you will meet me there." He glanced at her, and she raised an eyebrow at his insistence. "When your work allows," he added.

"What's wrong with your flat?" Madelyn peered at him, trying to figure out why he wouldn't want to take her to his own home.

"Too closely associated with my work. I don't want you involved."

The bluntness in his tone made her happy she wasn't.

When they arrived at the new flat, Madelyn decided it was more of a studio. Small with basic furnishings, nothing much else to catch the eye, but she didn't care. They could be alone here, with no one to walk in on them and nothing to stop them.

The moment the door shut behind them, John dropped her luggage on the floor and pulled her in, lips kissing her feverishly, hands pushing her layers away until her scarf and sweaters and tights were scattered across the floor. She pushed his coat off of him, kicking off her shoes before pulling at his shirt, which he ripped over his head accompanied by the sound of tearing fabric.

Encircled in his arms, Madelyn ran her fingers through his hair as his mouth traveled over her chest. When he reached her bra straps, his teeth promptly tore them off and then fell on one of her nipples. She arched towards him as he sucked at it and twisted it, pain and pleasure racing through her alternately. John backed her up against the wall, trapping her against it as his hands slid down to her hips and ripped her panties away. She swallowed at the fierceness in his actions, but these thoughts turned to mush as he pressed his lips to hers again while his hands were busy down below, teasing her and sliding between her folds. She was so turned on already and he knew it too.

She fought to catch her breath as John slowly filled her, stretching her until he was inside to the hilt. She was grateful he had a high tolerance for pain, since her nails were digging into him. She still wasn't used to his size. He pressed himself up against her, hands clamped around her hips, and she lifted a leg around him to help him in, and to steady herself. It wasn't as uncomfortable as the last time, and a moan escaped her lips between kisses.

When he began to thrust, Madelyn reached around him, hands going to his shoulders where she pressed her lips, and then sank her teeth when he increased his rhythm. His mouth hovered over her neck, his hot, panting breaths sinking into her skin with each escalated motion. When she glanced up at him, she could see his eyes through his loose hair, dilated pupils that darkened his blue eyes. As he steadily created friction between them, she could barely focus on his face. Noises came out of her throat with each thrust, and all she could think about was how good he felt inside her, and what else she wanted him to do to her before the night was over.

* * *

**_A/N: According to the Star Trek wiki Memory-Alpha dot org, Terminium is a metallic alloy used in the construction of Federation Mark VI photon torpedo casings._**

**_Thank you for reading and don't forget to review!_**


	9. The Catalyst

_**A/N: HELLOOO I AM BACK! First off I apologize profusely for making you all wait for this chapter. I have an excuse, in that it's the holidays rn, but still I feel really bad about the wait. Also I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. I had a bit of trouble with it because I wanted to get it right, but I'm a perfectionist so I'm sure you'll all approve. Anyway, enjoy!**_

* * *

**Chapter 9 – The Catalyst **

* * *

Madelyn finally relinquished her grip on the sheets, catching her breath as John slid out of her, his orgasm ebbing in sync with hers. She shut her eyes briefly as he pressed a trail of searing kisses down her neck and back, then his arms slid underneath her and circled her tightly and she was pulled to her side against him. She shimmied around so she faced him, sliding her arms around his neck while he gently kissed her lips. When she looked at him again, his expression was relaxed but impossible to read. She wasn't sure whether he was pleased to see her face, or just still lost in the satisfaction of knowing that she'd finally let him take her from behind.

She kissed him again, then nestled her face against his neck so his chin rested in her hair. She reached up and traced the sinews of his neck and shoulder with her fingers, running them down along the ridge of his collarbone and over his muscular chest. Every single time they'd seen each other over the past month, John had had one thing on his mind, and though she wasn't about to say no to mind-blowing sex, Madelyn was beginning to wonder if that was all he had wanted from the beginning.

She rolled her lips together to moisten them and tilted her chin to look up at him. His hair half-covered his eyes so she pushed it out of the way, her fingers lingering in his smooth locks after the fact. He gazed back at her, saying nothing, even when she pushed him over onto his back so she could lie on top of him. She appreciated that he let her push him around a little. The first week they'd slept together, John had loved nothing more than pinning her down and aggressively doing what he wanted, but lately he'd come to respect her desire for equal dominance. Still, he was stronger than he looked.

Madelyn crossed her arms over his chest and rested her chin on top of her hands. He was still looking at her with the same cool expression, but a faint smile graced his lips. She knew she needed to broach the subject now, while she had him under her like this, lounging in a post-sex high.

"You know, this has been great. The sex, I mean." She tried to restrain her grin, but his hands were sliding along her sides now and she couldn't help it.

"But you're not satisfied with it," he said. His look never changed, and she realized he must have picked up on her train of thought far earlier than he'd let on.

She lowered her voice as though she was suddenly unsure she wanted to reveal her doubts. "We've been doing this for over a month now, and I was wondering if it was going anywhere." She paused, watching him, but he wore the same stoic look that had never pissed her off until now. "Let's face it, John," she added. "You know everything about me, but I don't know a thing about you, and I don't know how I let that happen." She caught the shift in his demeanor in the way that his lips barely parted and the muscles in his jaw tightened. "Tell me about your family," she offered, despite the distraction his hands were becoming to her body.

His reply was quiet and curt. "I can't yet, but I will soon enough."

Madelyn licked her lips and adjusted the angle of her body against his. She knew the effect she had on him, and he would use it to distract her. She raised herself up on her elbows so she could look down at him more fully. "Why's that?" she asked, imagining some familial split had caused him to be so reluctant to talk about them. He must have had a good reason not to have spent Christmas with them. That was what she wanted to believe anyway.

John's hands slid along her back and down over her rear but she held his gaze unflinchingly. She ran her fingers along his neck and jaw, feeling the tension in it. "Why won't you talk about them?" There was a single moment in which she regretted pushing him for information when his hands paused and she caught a brief look in his eye that quickly disappeared.

"Nothing good will come of it," he said quickly.

Madelyn rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. He was being enigmatic again and it was starting to lose its attraction. His hands slid up between her thighs and made her breathing hitch, but she narrowed her eyes at him. She was determined to get him to talk before he made her forget what she wanted to know.

"So you do have family, but you won't talk about them. You didn't spend Christmas with them, so obviously you're not on good terms—"

The flood of warm sensations between her legs halted. "I would prefer you didn't form opinions of them before having met them."

"Which brings me to the question I've been waiting to ask. When do I get to meet them?"

The tension in John's face subsided a little and his fingers resumed their explorations. "Soon," he replied.

A moan slid between Madelyn's teeth and she couldn't help but comb her fingers into his scalp again, her forehead pressed to his chest. He knew what he was doing between her legs as always, and she knew when all coherent thoughts slipped from her mind.

What she had with John had become an addiction, a physical relationship that had come to exist solely in one bedroom or another. Ever since the incident in November—when she'd been drugged by a still-unknown person, thoroughly completing Owen's job of ruining their one and only date—John had been reluctant to go out in public with her at all. Not that Madelyn was complaining. She loved being with him, loved all the things he could do to her, and maybe he preferred it to remain that way. He'd made his intentions known only by showing her how long he could last with her. Their record so far was five hours, and though he always seemed to be up for more, he respected the times she made it clear she didn't match his desire.

There was also a certain stability in knowing that they could see each other in this private studio flat without being interrupted. Maybe John recognized that; maybe he preferred that, knowing he could just lie in bed with her if he wanted, or pin her against the wall if she let him. One evening, she was on the back deck gazing out at the city when he arrived, and he ended up slowly fucking her against the railing with her clothes still on. It was the first time Madelyn had ever engaged in what she considered to be a voyeuristic act, but she wouldn't have done it with anyone else because she trusted him.

John knew when she'd had enough, when she hardly had to speak a word but just lean her forehead against him and shut her eyes. She didn't know how many times she'd fallen asleep against him like that. Often she would wake up to find herself in the cold bed alone, but there were rare days when he would still be there, almost always watching her when she woke. And then he would leave soon after, hardly speaking a word, carrying with him an ever-present urgency to return to work. And it was his work that still gave her pause.

Given the questionable connection between her late grandfather and Admiral Marcus and the money that filled in the gaps, not to mention the mystery surrounding the person responsible for drugging her in November and John's insistence that it was somehow connected to her grandfather's murder, Madelyn understood his desire for a certain amount of secrecy. There was also the ever-present threat that Owen presented should he suddenly return from San Francisco, but she hadn't heard anything from him, and neither had Kelly or Carol when she asked them. Carol was supposed to go to San Francisco soon as well, some assignment she had a keen interest in keeping tabs on even though she didn't dare breathe a word of it to her father. Meanwhile, Madelyn's own work at the university was taking up more than enough of her time, but if she saw John several times a week, it more than made up for everything.

But as the days raced by, and January turned into February, Madelyn knew she was getting restless.

She woke up sick a few days in a row and had to cancel all of her classes at the last minute, unable to climb out of bed without being overwhelmed with nausea. By the afternoon of her fourth day of nausea, she finally went to her doctor who prescribed some medication. When it was suggested that she could be pregnant because of her recent sexual activity, Madelyn quickly dismissed the idea, knowing all of the tests she had undergone in the past had proven that pregnancy would never be a possibility for her, and she woke feeling much better the next day. She couldn't recall the last time she'd gotten sick, and blamed it on her work. She'd let stress and lack of sleep get to her, and her body had suffered the consequences of it. But the fact that she didn't feel the need to tell John that she'd been sick was what bothered her the most.

Finally, Madelyn decided that she wasn't going to put up with his one-track desire for her body each and every time she saw him. If this was ever going to become more than a sexual affair, she was going to have to do something about it herself. The next time she saw John, she managed to convince him to get some air with her, and not just out on the back deck. She literally dodged his advance and pulled him towards the door, handing him his coat on the way out. She knew she was giving him a hard time but she couldn't tell what he was thinking in return, only acquiescing to her insistence after she made it clear that she wanted to spend time with him doing something other than having sex. When he interrupted her rambling by pointing out that they _didn't_ do the same thing every week, Madelyn only responded with a sideways look and a suggestive smile. She knew exactly what he meant, but having sex in multiple positions and locations was still just having sex.

It was after dark and snowing when they stepped outside together. Madelyn wrapped her scarf more tightly around her neck as John's arm snaked around her waist, holding her tightly against him. They walked in silence for a while, across the street and through a nearby sparsely populated park. Madelyn glanced up at him several times, and each time his expression was tight and as cold as the air, but he never returned her look. Pressing her lips together in frustration, she stepped out in front of him, forcing him to stop and look down at her. Now she could tell his mind had been elsewhere.

"What's wrong?" she said quietly. "Don't act like I can't tell you're hiding something from me." She offered him a faint smile to let him know she wasn't being totally serious. Despite the intensity of his disconcerting gaze, she never broke eye contact.

"It's nothing you need to be concerned with," he replied.

She didn't budge when he took a step towards her and his hands snaked around her waist, pulling her up against him. "But we never talk," she murmured. "At least, you don't. What's going on?"

John didn't respond at first. She could hear him breathing above her, and she wondered briefly if she really smelled that nice. Then his lips descended to hers and she didn't try to stop him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, taking his mouth fully until she realized that she hadn't gotten a straight answer out of him, then she pulled away, putting him almost at arm's length.

"Can you at least tell me _something_?" she asked.

His gaze wavered and he looked about ready to respond, until a distinct chime emanated from his coat pocket. He pulled out his communicator, his attention focused completely on what came on-screen.

Madelyn chewed on her lower lip, waiting for him to look at her again. She saw his brow furrow as he read the message, his eyes flitting back and forth several times, narrowing as they did. His jaw tightened and his nostrils flared, and suddenly there was a crunching sound as he crushed the device in his fist. Madelyn stared as he flung the broken pieces to the ground, turning on his heel without a word or a glance. It took Madelyn a second to realize that he was striding quickly away.

"Hey!" she called. "What's going on?"

He paused midstep and turned enough so she could see his face again. She hated that he masked his emotions so well, but given the state of the shattered communicator beside her feet, she knew it couldn't be good.

"You should go home," he said, his voice vibrating with something that sent a chill down her spine.

"John, what is it?"

She knew the unintentional tremor in her voice would give him pause, but he turned quickly away again, his hands clenched into fists at his side. "I said go home."

He didn't look at her again as she stood there watching him disappear into the snowy night. After a moment of anger, she glanced down at the ground where his shattered communicator lay in a pile. Picking it up, she looked at how dented and disjointed and cracked the device was. He'd done that with a single clench of his fist.

And now she had no way of contacting him.

Feeling another wave of anger rise up inside her, Madelyn stifled it and called Kelly. She would need more than one drink before the night was over.

* * *

The torpedoes were gone, all seventy-two of them, each one carefully concealing a member of his crew. His plan had been discovered, and now he had every reason to believe that Marcus had destroyed the torpedoes and murdered his crew hidden away inside them, helpless and unconscious inside their stasis pods.

Khan had done everything to ensure this wouldn't happen, and still he had been found out. Someone inside Section 31 had betrayed him.

As he stormed through the city on foot, every step he took felt heavier than the last. He had no other options left. His crew was gone and now he was alone, save for Madelyn. He considered going back to get her, but instantly knew he couldn't do that. He'd suspected there had been Starfleet eyes on her for some time now, and Marcus would have people out looking for him. He'd be walking right into a trap if he was seen with her again, and he couldn't risk putting her in danger. She would have to wait.

The beginnings of a plan were already formulating in Khan's mind. He would only need a small amount of time to make it work. A week, two at most. In that time, he could stay under the radar while Marcus sent people out looking for him.

In order to get to Marcus, he would need to first send a message; something that would let Marcus know he wasn't going to let him win, and something that would put the Admiral right in his crosshairs. There was one man new to 31 that Khan knew he could easily coerce into doing something for him, and it was the only way he would be able to gain access to the Archives now.

There was no reason not to respond to the Admiral's actions with anything less than the most brutal measures. He'd briefly corresponded with another agent of 31's on a newly manufactured explosive material, easily formed into an object of any shape, and easily smuggled out with a simple request for materials.

Already, the pieces of this plan were falling into place in his mind. But in order to make it work in reality, he would have to stay hidden and he would have to be careful.

Khan knew that once he'd triggered this series of events, there was no going back. After Marcus was dead, he would be forced to hide. He would need a quick way to get off planet, and he would go where Starfleet would never dare follow him.

The closer he got to his destination, the angrier he found himself becoming. All of his plans for the future had been laid to waste, and all of his hopes of saving his crew destroyed. Madelyn would slip through his fingers just like his crew and he would be left to run alone, once Starfleet was laid to waste.

His fingernails cut into his palms. He needed to forget her for now. His quickly contrived idea would require the utmost in careful planning and manipulation on his part. His crew didn't deserve anything less.

His crew deserved vengeance.

* * *

Two weeks passed and Madelyn didn't hear a single word from John. She stopped by the studio flat everyday just in case he decided to come back and apologize, or at least explain himself, but he never showed. She knew there was no point in calling him since he'd destroyed his communicator in front of her. Something had made him angry enough to do that and the sinking feeling in her stomach told her it was his work in Starfleet, that he was so preoccupied with it he didn't even care to let her know he didn't want to see her anymore.

On one hand, she was angry with herself for letting their relationship morph into an exclusively sexual affair, but she was growing more and more concerned over his sudden disappearance. Work was a helpful distraction, as the middle of the semester was approaching and with it came midterm exams to give and loads of other work to grade, but with each day that passed, it hurt more and more when she continued to have no idea where he was while having no way of contacting him.

"If he wanted to break it off, he could at least have the courtesy to tell you face to face," said Kelly one day when the two of them were shopping at the corner supermarket just a few blocks from their flat. It was the first time since John had left that Madelyn had really had a chance to talk with her roommate, but she knew Kelly didn't have much to offer her in the way of sound advice.

"I think you should just forget about him, to be honest," Kelly continued, snatching a few cans off a shelf and dropping them in her basket. "He wanted sex, you gave it, and now he's tossed you and has probably moved on to someone else."

Madelyn threw her young roommate a look. "Thanks, that's really encouraging. If only I could call him and find out the truth. Oh right, he crushed his communicator in his bare hand right in front of me." The sarcasm in her voice was intentional and she didn't bother to watch for Kelly's reaction. She went down an aisle containing various over the counter medications, looking for something that could ease her bouts of nausea that had recently returned. She was starting to suspect it was her diet, which consisted of everything and anything she happened to be craving. "Besides I'm pretty sure the only thing he's interested in now is his work."

Kelly came up beside her and handed her a bottle of Dramamine with a knowing look. "Like I said, you need to forget about him."

Madelyn took the bottle and tossed it into her basket. "You know it's not that simple. Something's not right. I know him and he would never leave like that without at least saying something. For all we know, there was an emergency at the Io facility and it couldn't wai—shit, I never said that." She bit her lip when she realized she'd just spilled a tidbit of classified information that John had trusted her with to the one person she knew who had a penchant for babbling about everything. It was worse now that Kelly was grinning.

"Official secrets? Well then, maybe he _will_ come back and explain himself once he hears you're revealing classified information."

"Not before I cut my hand on his cheekbones," Madelyn muttered. She heard her roommate snort but ignored it. "I just hope he's okay."

The two women headed for the checkout line, but Kelly insisted on stopping in front of her suddenly. "Now see, that's your problem. You're so attached to him, more attached than you should be given the nature of your relationship—which I wouldn't even call a relationship so much as a friends with benefits thing. But you've got to see that maybe he's not interested in that additional romantic aspect, and maybe he wants you to see that as well."

"That still doesn't excuse his behavior," Madelyn replied, attempting to step around her friend. Then she started and stared at her. "Why are you defending him?"

Kelly's expression softened. "I'm just trying to help you out, Maddy. I know this is hard. When you first met him, he just didn't seem like the type of man you'd be attracted to, and to be honest I was really surprised when I found out that you two were…"

Madelyn looked at her friend and was suddenly so grateful for her honesty, but she had no reply. Kelly put a hand on her arm.

"I know you trusted him, but maybe he's hiding something. Maybe you don't know him as well as you think you do."

"What could he possibly be hiding? He's told me all about his work. It's the only thing that seems to matter to him." The thought that John cared more for his work than her suddenly stung.

Kelly shrugged and set her basket down on the conveyer belt to be scanned. "Men like him always have secrets. Some are just better at hiding them than others."

Madelyn opened her mouth to respond, but her thoughts were vaporized when the ground shuddered and a rack of wine bottles clinked together nearby. In the distance, there was a gradual cascading rumble. She exchanged glances with Kelly, and then one of the shop's attendants rushed by them, yelling something about a bomb.

Their purchases forgotten on the conveyer belt, the two women rushed outside to join the growing numbers of people who had also heard the noise and felt it. Madelyn craned her neck in the direction several people were now looking and pointing and saw a large gray cloud of smoke rising into the air between skyscrapers.

"There's been an attack!" someone was yelling nearby. Other people quickly pulled out their phones and communication devices, dialing friends and loved ones. Madelyn felt Kelly tugging her away but needed a moment. She felt her heart sinking into her gut. The blast had hit right in the heart of central London, where John had said he worked.

"Maddy, let's go home," Kelly was pleading, her voice trembling. "Come on, please."

Madelyn swallowed and chanced another glance at the growing blast cloud before turning and following her scared roommate back to their apartment, while over and over in her mind, she cursed at John Harrison for having left her without even saying goodbye.

* * *

**_Whoo hoo finally getting a bit of action! Again I apologize for the length of time you all had to wait for this chapter, but I suppose my excuse is valid, it being the holidays and all. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It wasn't as long as I'd wanted it to be, which I apologize for as well. But please review! I love receiving your feedback! I'll try to have the next chapter posted sooner than this one was._**


	10. Dysphoria

_**A/N: So I got this next chapter done more quickly than I expected. The story is now moving into sync with the events of 'Star Trek Into Darkness' so a lot of the dialogue is taken from the film. I tried my best to keep it as similar as possible, and obviously I don't own any of said dialogue, but I did have to tweak it here and there to make it flow better. No Khan in this chapter, however there are several new characters entering the scene, some of which you'll hopefully be quite familiar with ;D**_

_**Also this is my longest chapter yet, but I think you'll enjoy it regardless!**_

* * *

**Chapter 10 - Dysphoria**

* * *

An hour after returning home, Madelyn and Kelly were huddled on the couch, eyes glued to live news coverage of the attack. The Kelvin Memorial Archives had been completely destroyed in the blast and the body count was up to forty. Madelyn's fingers played with the silver locket around her neck, the one John had given her for Christmas, and she couldn't shake the sinking feeling in her gut that he could be one of those bodies.

The com chiming at the apartment door made both women start. Madelyn ran over to answer it, hoping against hope that it was John, but instead she came face to face with Owen Gallagher. Flanked by two other Starfleet officers, he was dressed in his typical gray uniform and armed with a phaser on his belt. Madelyn almost slammed the door in his face, but he shot out a hand to stop her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped.

Owen seemed unfazed by her reaction. "This is official Starfleet business, Maddy. I'm here on orders from Admiral Marcus."

At the mention of Marcus, she straightened. "Any news from John?"

Owen glanced uncomfortably at one of his men, who retrieved a PADD from his workbag. "Maddy, the Admiral wants you in San Francisco. He was aware of your connection with John Harrison, who is now a fugitive and suspected terrorist, and he personally asked me to bring you in for your own safety."

She stared at him for a moment, attempting to make sense of what she'd just heard. Then she crossed her arms, leaning unamused against the doorjamb. "You think John bombed that archive?"

"We know he did." Owen took the PADD from his subordinate and swiftly drew his fingers across the screen until he found what he was looking for, then he handed it to Madelyn. "You can see for yourself."

Unwilling to believe him, Madelyn ducked her gaze to the PADD and slowly scrolled through a collection of photographs of ground zero, taken from localized CCTV footage. The first few records were messy, half-shrouded in dust and debris. The next few showed the air beginning to clear. People were scattered across the image, running in all directions, panicked and bloody and confused. She continued to flip through the images until a familiar figure caught her eye, leaning over the open cockpit of a small jumpship that was parked on the street that had once run in front of the Archives.

She zoomed in on the ship and realized she was looking at John. He showed no signs of injury and wasn't even dirty. A blast of that size would have done some serious damage, so he must have just arrived on the scene in that ship. He was dressed all in black, his expression steeled, and his gloved hand gripping a large bag that he appeared to be setting inside the jumpship's cockpit.

"Okay, but this doesn't prove he set off the bomb. It just proves he was there," she said, handing the PADD back to Owen. She didn't believe John would do something like this, and Owen's accusations certainly weren't convincing.

"There's more but we can't talk about it here," said Owen, glancing behind her to where Kelly was still curled up on the couch. "Admiral Marcus wants you in San Francisco as soon as possible. This is for your own safety, Maddy. We have no way of knowing where Harrison is, nor if he'll strike again and where. We can't be sure if he'll come for you next."

Madelyn worried on her lower lip, glancing from Owen to his men and back. She didn't know where he was getting this idea that John was a violent person. She'd never seen him so much as lift a finger to hurt anyone. If anything, he used his words as weapons, not his fists. But these orders were coming straight from the top of Starfleet, and it seemed foolish not to go along with them, especially after what had just happened downtown.

Madelyn nodded slowly, not allowing Owen the pleasure of meeting her gaze. "If your orders are coming straight from Marcus, then I guess I'll go with you." If anything she trusted Marcus more than she trusted Owen, and right now the latter was just doing his job. She turned to go back inside. "Just give me a minute."

Owen nodded and waited by the door as she hurried into her bedroom to pack a bag. Kelly appeared in the doorway of her bedroom after a moment, and when Madelyn looked up, the fear on the younger woman's face was evident.

"Are you alright, Maddy? Is this about John?"

Madelyn didn't want to answer. She wasn't sure if she was alright. She didn't know what to think, but she knew she didn't want to believe anything Owen said, not until she was given solid proof of John's involvement in the attack.

She recalled the way Admiral Marcus had warned her about him in the past, but for reasons that never went explained. She'd brushed off Owen's warnings as jealousy, and she still wasn't about to take his word on this. Though seeing John in the security footage was more than a little disconcerting, none of this made any sense. Bombing the Kelvin Memorial Archives was the equivalent of bombing a library, and what could anyone benefit from that?

She quickly pulled a comfortable pair of flat-heeled boots on over her jeans, then put on her coat and finished stuffing a few necessities into her bag. Kelly was still standing in the doorway of her bedroom, looking concerned as ever. Madelyn shouldered her bag and approached her roommate. "I've been asked to go to San Francisco by the head of Starfleet. He thinks John is the one responsible for the bomb."

Kelly covered her mouth with her hand, but Madelyn shook her head.

"I don't know what to believe, so I'm gonna go, and I'm gonna find out what's going on. I'm sure I won't be gone for more than a few days."

Kelly chewed on her upper lip nervously. "Do you want me to call Naomi?"

Madelyn nodded. "Ask her to get a sub for my classes. Midterms are next week, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Kelly gave her a sheepish smile and then pulled her in for a tight hug. "Stay safe."

Madelyn forced herself to smile back. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Maddy, we need to go," Owen called.

Madelyn gave Kelly's hand a reassuring squeeze, then headed for the front door where Owen was still waiting. She followed him and his men out the door and down to the street where their shuttle was parked and climbed onboard. She'd never actually been inside an official Starfleet shuttle before, but she was surprised to find it was no different than the average mode of transportation. This revelation was surprisingly comforting and she was able focus on the present as they lifted off into the air.

Her thoughts whirled through her head, the heavy silence onboard accompanied by the engines' steady whirring only aiding her growing unease. Maybe John really did have something to do with the bombing. She was reminded that his behavior two weeks ago had been strange, and there was always the chance that something could have provoked him. It would explain his sudden disappearance, and the uncharacteristic anger he'd exhibited that night, barely contained by his usual stoicism. Still the idea felt foreign and Madelyn knew she'd never believe he would do something like this without solid proof of his responsibility.

Even after Owen had his men give her further access to another set of photographs and security footage from the attack, she saw no sign that John had actually instigated the explosion, only that he'd retrieved something from the debris in the aftermath and then gotten away in a small jumpship. But why had he been there in the first place? The nagging sensation grew stronger and she wanted to ignore it, but she couldn't when Owen spoke up from the cockpit.

"I told you there was a bit of additional information, but Admiral Marcus wanted to keep it under the radar so I couldn't tell you back at your flat. Moments before the bomb went off, he received a message from a Starfleet officer who claimed Harrison coerced him into carrying out the attack. He warned Marcus about Harrison, that he'd gone rogue, and that there could potentially be another attack. As I said, this was moments before the attack occurred. Lieutenant Anders, please show her the message."

The younger officer quickly retrieved the information and transferred it to Madelyn's PADD. She read it over quickly, still disbelieving what she was reading and feeling more and more sick about it. As she looked through the additional footage again, she remembered having the feeling several months ago that John had been keeping things from her, but she'd been too infatuated with him to care and soon forgot about it. Now suddenly the truth behind that feeling was staring her in the face.

As they approached San Francisco, she tore her gaze from the tablet and stared out the small window beside her seat. At night, the city home to Starfleet Headquarters was an amalgamation of multi-colored lights reflecting off of metal and glass and water, and under other circumstances Madelyn would have been excited to see it. But now all she could think about was the possibility that she'd been sleeping with a would-be terrorist for the last two months, and it made her skin crawl.

Her attention shifted to the shuttle cockpit when she heard the hushed tones of a low conversation occurring between Owen and his co-pilot. She straightened in her seat to try and listen in, but the ambient noise of the shuttle made it impossible. "What is it?" she called.

Owen turned and glanced back at her with hardened features. "There's been another attack. An officer at the scene confirmed it was Harrison."

Madelyn's heart sank into her gut.

As the shuttle turned and headed for a landing, the Daystrom complex's enormous pair of towers came into view. A cluster of emergency shuttles had cordoned off one area in the building's side, and as they passed close by, the extent of the damage became clear. What appeared to have been a conference room was now littered with shattered glass, sparking wires and chunks of plaster and debris. Several bodies lay motionless on the floor.

The shuttle landed on the opposite side of the complex so that the curvature of the building blocked Madelyn's view of the aftermath of the most recent attack. She was hesitant to leave her seat at first, her fingers half-covering her mouth as she struggled to come to grips with what lingered in the front of her mind. She could still barely believe this, but she'd read Officer Harewood's message to Admiral Marcus, she'd seen the security footage, and now that there'd been another attack…

"Maddy?"

Owen was standing over her with a questioning look. Quickly she grabbed her bag and stood up without a word, ignoring the moment his hand brushed her back as she made her way past him and out of the shuttle.

She just needed to talk to Admiral Marcus. Nothing else mattered until she got to the bottom of what was happening, and if John was the one responsible for these attacks, she needed to know why.

Owen escorted her into the building, then had her wait outside the Admiral's office while he went in and informed him of their arrival. He came back out a minute later, his expression still hard, only softening a little when she met his gaze.

"Several men and women died in that conference room tonight directly because of Harrison. Don't say I didn't warn you about him."

Madelyn didn't respond, angry that Owen thought he could rub this in her face.

"Marcus will see you now," he said.

She brushed past him without a word and was able to breathe easier when the door shut behind her and he was gone.

Admiral Marcus' office was a cavernous hall, dimly lit save for a conglomeration of various muted news channels glowing on one wall, and the blue screen of a large PADD illuminating the Admiral's hunched over figure. Madelyn wasn't sure whether she should wait for him to acknowledge her, or keep walking towards him. She was conscious of the way her boots tapped on the floor, and at the moment Marcus looked emotionally distraught and in no condition to be seeing anyone.

She stood there awkwardly for a moment, eyes wandering across the room. There was a display of historic model ships nearby, dating all the way back to the early 1900s. The newest model on the end was a particularly impressive starship with a black hull and angular twin engines, a behemoths in comparison with its smaller counterpart nearby. She wondered haphazardly if that was one of the ships John had designed.

"Madelyn McGivers." Admiral Marcus pushed his chair back from his desk and stood up, the lines in his face more evident in the angled light as he approached her. "It's a shame we had to meet again under these circumstances. I hope my people didn't give you too much trouble."

She offered him a disingenuous smile. "It was fine."

Marcus nodded and motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "I was aware you knew Commander Gallagher, so I didn't think he'd have a problem bringing you here."

_If only you knew_, she thought, but she kept her expression blank and her mouth shut.

"It came to my attention several months ago that you were spending a lot of time with Commander John Harrison, and now he's responsible for the bombing in London that killed forty-two people. Less than an hour ago, he attacked the emergency meeting I had convened in this building. I'm sure you saw the damage on your way in."

Madelyn nodded and briefly studied the Admiral, noticing the cuts in his face, probably from flying glass. There were also more lines in his features than she remembered. "I never would've imagined John would do something like this. Maybe you know him better than I do."

Marcus ran his fingers along his chin, considering her for a moment, a strange look crossing his features. "I know him well enough that I should've expected this. When was the last time you saw him?"

She thought back briefly to the night John had received a message and promptly left her out in the cold. "Two weeks ago."

The Admiral nodded as though he was realizing something, then he leaned onto his desk with his fingers interlaced in front of him. "I'll just cut to the chase here and assume he never told you anything."

"Told me what?"

The way he said it made Madelyn instantly suspicious, then she reminded herself that John had worked for Marcus, and despite the apparent secrecy involved in their work, John had always made it clear that he and Marcus didn't get along.

"John Harrison was never to be trusted, and the moment he entered your life I knew I needed to warn you," Marcus continued. "Nevertheless, given the nature of your relationship with him, I would've thought he'd have been more… open." He raised an eyebrow.

Madelyn felt her fingers clamping tightly around the arms of her chair. "How did you know?" she asked quietly.

"I have people all over London, Ms. McGivers. We've been watching Harrison for a long time."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid that's classified."

Madelyn was silent for a moment, incensed at that revelation. How much of her privacy had been violated without her knowledge? And had John known? She shook her head at herself. At this point it was probably safe to assume that he'd never cared even when he'd pretended to. She shifted in her chair as it all finally began to sink in. "Tell me the truth, Admiral. Why am I here?"

A faint smile played at his lips, but he seemed to take the hint. "The Archives Harrison bombed were a cover for a secret underground facility called Section 31. He was one of our top agents, and he knew that in response to his attack on London, I would call an emergency meeting here. I wish I'd had the foresight to realize that earlier, because he was banking on it. He used a stolen gunship to murder several of our finest captains and admirals, and I could've been one of them. Harrison is nothing less than a criminal, Ms. McGivers, and I'm going to do everything within my power to hunt him down."

He leaned back in his seat as he continued.

"The reason you're here is twofold. I wanted to make sure Harrison didn't come for you, and I needed to be sure you weren't complicit in his actions. Obviously you don't need to explain yourself now, because I can see it all over your face. But you shouldn't have expected anything less from that bastard."

Madelyn felt a weight settle in her gut and stared at the desk, unwilling to meet what was sure to be an accusatory gaze.

"Now that he's escaped, we have no way of knowing where he'll turn up next, but when he does, I want you there. You know him better than anyone else, and chances are if he sees you he won't try to pull anything. That'll make my job a hell of a lot easier."

Madelyn's gaze lurched back to Marcus. "You want to use me as bait."

"Well, when you put it like that—"

"Look if all of this about John is true, the last thing I want to do is see him again."

She hated this, the way he made it sound like John was some kind of animal to be lured in with the promise of a prize, the prize being _her_. How did Marcus think he could get away with this?

The Admiral narrowed his gaze. "You need to understand, Ms. McGivers, I made a mistake and I'm willing to do anything I can to stop him. Under these circumstances, I don't think you have a choice."

Madelyn held his gaze firmly. "Last I checked, Admiral, I don't work for Starfleet. You can't make me do this."

"I can't, you're right."

He paused, and Madelyn leaned back in her chair with satisfaction, holding his gaze. There was no way she'd let him force her into doing something she wasn't comfortable with. She was allowed to revel in this for only a second.

"But I _can_ leave a mark on your record," Marcus continued. "You knew Harrison before all of this. You know I had people watching him. Obviously they could have seen you as well. Fabricating your complicity with his actions would be easy. I'd hate for someone as young as yourself to lose the opportunity to further your career."

Madelyn bit the inside of her lip to keep from reacting in a way she'd regret. If he was willing to blackmail her in order to get her to cooperate, she didn't want to know what else he was willing to do. He was watching her carefully, and suddenly she realized he'd had the upper hand from the beginning.

"After you find him, and I help you, you'll let me go home." It was less of a suggestion than a thinly veiled command.

"There's no reason for you stay in San Francisco. Once he's been dealt with, you'll be free to move on with your life."

Madelyn nodded without a word. It was either this, or potentially having her career aspirations ruined forever, and the look on Marcus' face said he knew it too.

"Hopefully by morning we'll know Harrison's location, and I'll have Commander Gallagher keep you informed." Marcus reached over and held down a com button. "Commander, please escort Ms. McGivers to her accommodations for the night."

Madelyn steeled her gaze at him angrily, but he'd returned his attention to the PADD on his desk and didn't seem to notice. Behind her the door opened, and she knew Owen would be waiting on her. She stood up without another word and turned on her heel, striding ardently towards him without meeting his gaze. When she felt his hand brush her back for the second time, she gritted her teeth and pushed down her urge to react. It wasn't until she was sure they were out of earshot of the Admiral's office that she wheeled around to face him.

"Don't you dare think you can turn this around and make this about us," she said quietly, enunciating every syllable so they dripped bitterly off her tongue. "You know I'm not happy about any of this."

"I never said anything about us." Owen smirked a little until Madelyn shifted, tilting her chin down as a warning. "But like I said, I did warn you about him."

She pointed a finger at his face. "I'm warning _you_. The last thing I need is your smartass trying to make moves. You will stay away from me, is that clear?"

Owen raised his hands defensively. "I'm just doing my job."

"And does your job involve touching me?" she said calmly.

His jaw clenched and she felt a tinge of satisfaction. "Just do what Marcus told you to do, Owen. I can't deal with this right now."

She hated the way he was looking at her, with sad blue eyes that begged her to retrace her steps and calm down, but there was nothing else she wanted to say. She waited until he was walking again and in front of her before allowing herself to let down her defenses and take a good, deep breath.

John had committed acts of terrorism resulting in the deaths of over fifty people, and she was trying so hard to make that fact sink in. Owen being in the picture was only going to make that more difficult. She hoped tonight would be the last she saw of him, and she hoped they would find John quickly. She wanted this to be over as soon as possible. She wanted to go back home and forget she'd ever met him, or ever slept with him, and she felt used and dirty because of that. It was as if he'd thrown her away two weeks ago, without an explanation or even an excuse. It was more than enough trying to believe that he'd committed acts of terror, but in the name of what? Why had he done this? What had Starfleet ever done to him? She couldn't think of a single legitimate reason that made sense.

She hoped she'd get the opportunity to tell him what a dick he'd been to hide all those things from her, to act like he never planned to murder innocent people. She wanted to let him know that she wasn't the type of woman to brush actions like that aside, and if it meant introducing his face to her hand, then so much the better.

* * *

In the morning, she was hit with a fresh wave of nausea and quickly downed a portion of the Dramamine she was glad she'd remembered to pack. She chalked it up to stress and anger, but didn't have much time to ruminate over anything when the com in her quarters chimed. Owen was there waiting for her, with orders to take her to a hangar where she would be shuttled onboard the USS _Enterprise_. Madelyn almost couldn't believe it.

"Why am I only finding this out now?"

"Admiral Marcus wants you to accompany the crew tasked with bringing in Harrison."

"So they found him. Where is he?"

"Harrison? He's on Kronos."

Madelyn barely withheld the curse on the tip of her tongue, but quickly grabbed her things and followed Owen to their shuttle, all the while thinking to herself how insane this turn of events was becoming. To even think of going to the Klingon homeworld meant that Starfleet had just opened itself up to the possibility of a war.

Ten minutes later, they landed in a bustling Starfleet hangar. Madelyn kept a close eye on Owen's curly blond head as he made his way between people and storage crates and forklifts, glad for his apparent obliviousness to the chaos around them. When they stopped, he left her with a tall, black-haired Vulcan, and then said a quick goodbye that told Madelyn he was in no mood to talk to her. She watched him go then turned when the Vulcan introduced himself.

"Madelyn McGivers. I'm Commander Spock, First Officer on the Enterprise."

She looked up at Spock with a faint smile and offered her hand for him to shake. He took it firmly, but his angular eyebrow lifted a fraction and she barely realized her mistake before he turned on his heel.

"If you'll follow me, Ms. McGivers."

She went quickly after him, annoyed with the typical Vulcan detachment he was displaying, as well as the fact that he already knew her name. They boarded the nearby shuttle and Madelyn gratefully settled into the window seat she was pointed to. Finally she had a chance to breathe and process what was happening.

"This is insane," she muttered. "This is so insane. I can't believe this is happening."

"If it's any consolation, I volunteered for this, which makes me more insane than you."

The source of the eccentric southern accent was an officer who'd just taken the seat beside her. Madelyn glanced at him, noticing the tightness in his features, the way his gaze narrowed and his eyebrow arched when he looked at his medical instruments. He angled them towards the younger man sitting in front of him and studied the readings briefly with a frown before putting them away and stretching out his hand.

"I'm Doctor Leonard McCoy."

She shook his hand firmly. "Madelyn McGivers."

"I take it you're the token civilian. I was told to make you a priority, though you seem perfectly healthy to me. When we get onboard the Enterprise, I'll be running the usual tests. This your first time in space?"

"It had to be under these circumstances, unfortunately," she replied.

McCoy shook his head and continued to scowl. "Believe me, it's no joyride."

Madelyn couldn't help but smile at the tone of his voice. She liked him already.

"Status report, Mr. Spock."

Madelyn glanced up to see a younger man with bright blue eyes and cropped blond hair enter the shuttle and take a seat in front of her. He could have passed for an irresponsible frat boy had he not been dressed in the yellow of Starfleet Command.

"The Enterprise should be ready for launch by the time we arrive," Spock replied. The younger man nodded and fiddled with something onscreen his PADD. "Captain," Spock continued. "Thank you for requesting my reinstatement."

The younger man gave a faint smile and nodded in affirmation. "You're welcome."

Captain? This guy looked to be at least a year or more younger than herself, and yet he was the _captain_ of this mission? "This is insane," Madelyn repeated quietly to herself. She knew Dr. McCoy had heard her while busying himself in attempting to scan the captain, but she didn't care.

"As I am again your first officer," Spock was saying, "it is now my duty to strongly object to our mission parameters."

The captain nodded with a knowing smile this time. "Of course it is."

"There is no Starfleet regulation that condemns a man to die without a trial," Spock continued, his tone taking on more urgency than Madelyn would expect from a Vulcan. "…something you and Admiral Marcus are forgetting."

The captain gave no response this time.

"Also, preemptively firing torpedoes at the Klingon homeworld goes against every—"

"You yourself said the area was uninhabited," the captain replied, cutting his first officer off. "There's only gonna be one casualty. And in case you weren't listening, our orders had nothing to do with Starfleet regulation."

McCoy leaned forward suddenly, ignoring his instruments. "Wait a minute, we're firing torpedoes at the Klingons?"

"Regulations aside, this action is morally wrong," said Spock.

"Regulations aside, pulling your ass out of a volcano was morally right!" said the captain. "I didn't win any points for that."

McCoy's instruments bleeped. "Woah, Jim, calm down."

"I'm not gonna take ethics lessons from a robot!"

"Reverting to name calling suggests that you are defensive and therefore find my opinion valid," said Spock.

"I wasn't asking for your opinion. Bones, get that thing off my face."

McCoy removed the sensor he was pressing to the captain's face and glanced at Madelyn. She smiled faintly. "Bones?"

He rolled his eyes. "Long story."

"Captain, our mission could start a war with the Klingons and it is by its very definition immoral," Spock continued. "Perhaps you should take the requisite time to arrive at this conclusion for yourself."

Madelyn turned to McCoy again, utterly confused and disturbed that anyone was even considering firing torpedoes at Kronos. "Would you care to explain to me what the hell is going on?"

"Yeah, hey Jim, would you care to explain to this lovely lady here why we're going to be firing torpedoes at the damn Klingons?"

"I thought we were going to arrest John Harrison," she added.

The captain, whose name was apparently Jim, turned in his seat and looked at her, and Madelyn got the very distinct feeling from the look on his face that he was about to hit on her, until she heard a familiar English voice from the doorway up front.

"Captain Kirk?"

She glanced up and barely withheld her surprise at seeing her friend Carol Marcus standing there in a flight suit. Carol caught her look and smiled a bit, but her focus was on the captain.

"I'm science officer Wallace. I've been assigned to the Enterprise by Admiral Marcus." She held a PADD out to Kirk. "These are my transfer orders."

Madelyn frowned. _Wallace? Why was she using her maiden name?_

"You requested an additional science officer, Captain?" asked Spock, in a tone that could have matched the one in Madelyn's head.

"I wish I had," said Kirk, glancing down at the PADD. "Lieutenant Carol Wallace. Doctorate in Applied Physics. Specializing in Advanced Weaponry."

"Impressive credentials," said Spock.

"Thank you," said Carol.

"But redundant now that I am back aboard the Enterprise."

"And yet the more the merrier!" Kirk shot his Vulcan first officer a look as he handed Carol back her PADD. "Have a seat, doctor."

Carol grinned at him and sent Madelyn a knowing look that said they could catch up later. Madelyn nodded. She wasn't about to spill her secrets in front of these people. She only had a few moments of quiet when Kirk shot his hand between the seats for Madelyn to shake. "Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. Glad to meet you, Ms. McGivers. Admiral Marcus got me up to date on your… history." He gave her a closed smile. "I can assure you you're in good hands."

Madelyn took his hand and shook it reluctantly, glancing at McCoy when the doctor snorted. Kirk also glanced at him. "Oh, come on Bones!"

When McCoy caught Madelyn's eye again, she knew right away that she was going to like him.

"Now that we're all introduced," said McCoy, "Jim, can you explain to us just why the hell lobbing torpedoes at the Klingons is a good idea?"

"It's an act that would violate every Starfleet regulation we have vowed to uphold," said Spock.

McCoy gave the Vulcan an uncomfortable look.

Kirk shifted in his seat so he could see them all, and looked like he was prepared to make a speech. He hesitated, then shook his head. "Look, John Harrison is on Kronos. Admiral Marcus ordered me to do whatever was necessary to end him, so that's what I'm gonna do."

"Captain—"

Kirk held up a hand. "Spock, I know."

Madelyn swallowed and quickly spoke up. "I hate to be the one to say this, but this sounds like a suicide mission. If you fire anything at the Klingons, you can bet they'll start a war we won't be able to win."

"The civilian understands this better than you, Jim," said McCoy. "You oughta pay attention."

The only reason Madelyn knew this wasn't a good idea was because she'd overheard multiple conversations on this same topic occur between Marcus and her grandfather. Now that ot was actually being considered as a viable option made her head spin.

"I'm aware of all this, believe me," Kirk said quickly. "But he's a murderer and a terrorist, and I'm going to bring him to justice. That's final." He locked eyes with Spock before settling back into his seat, and nothing else was said of it.

So instead of finding and arresting John, they were going to throw torpedoes at him. Madelyn couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong with this scenario, but she was in no position to be calling the shots. Less than a day ago, the man she'd been sleeping with for the past two months had revealed himself to be a terrorist, and she'd been too ignorant to notice the signs.

Because, looking back, there had been signs, and she felt like an idiot for not noticing them sooner. The tension he'd exhibited every time he mentioned Starfleet or Admiral Marcus, the way he spoke about his work, and then of course his disappearance two weeks ago. She should have seen it coming. She should have been paying attention, and if she had, she might have been able to stop him.

* * *

Admiral Alexander Marcus stood looking out at San Francisco from his office as the morning sun crept above the horizon, glinting orange off the seemingly ageless Golden Gate Bridge. A relic of centuries past, Marcus wondered briefly if the time would come when even such an iconic structure would be subjected to the destruction of a new war. With Khan having slipped out of his grasp, time was quickly running out to act. Confidence was Marcus' only ally now, confidence that the plan he had quickly formulated would work.

Khan still thought he had the upper hand by escaping to Kronos. That bastard knew Starfleet would never publicly send people to the Klingon home world; by doing what he'd done so far, the Augment was practically asking to start a war. Marcus had decided what he was going to do in retaliation almost as soon as Jim Kirk had revealed where Khan was hiding. This would be only way to tie up the loose ends of the shitstorm that had resulted from the mistake he'd made almost a year ago. Then again, looking back, the outcome had seemed inevitable no matter what.

Marcus would have had specialized weapons and ships designed whether the Botany Bay had been discovered or not, but having Khan's superior and savage intellect on his side for so long had been the icing on the cake. He had to give it to the bastard on that account. Among many of its highly advanced capabilities, the brand new and barely used USS _Vengeance_ was twice the size of any Constitution-class starship used by Starfleet, and had three times the speed. With Mark IV warp capabilities, she could catch up with enemy ships at warp and fire on them using advanced phasers proven to tear drone ships to shreds in tests.

The Vengeance's beaming technology was also highly advanced, capable of bypassing the most current shielding technologies, as well as blocking incoming signals, which would eliminate the threat of onboard skirmishes. Ironically, that was what had kept Khan from seizing the ship himself instead of being forced to beam to another planet after he'd attacked Daystrom last night. It was the only moment Marcus could come up with in which Khan's own devices had worked against him.

But the Vengeance was the only thing standing between Earth and a potential Klingon incursion, and it was the only thing that Marcus had at his disposal with which he would tie up the loose ends of his mistake.

Sending Kirk out there would play right into his plan. With Khan in a vulnerable position, Marcus would be able to dispose of both the Augment and his crew in one fell swoop. Having Madelyn McGivers onboard the Enterprise made the job that much easier. He hadn't planned on it at first, but his people had shown him enough evidence to lead him to mistrust her. Though she seemed to be ignorant of Khan's true identity, that didn't mean Khan hadn't fed her misinformation about Section 31, about the torpedoes or the people hidden inside them, or anything else that needed to be swept under the rug to avoid future complications.

Marcus had deliberated on the timing of it all, and had resolved to have the Enterprise's warp core tampered with. Their systems would give out just as they arrived within spitting distance of Kronos, giving them ample time to locate and put an end to Khan. By then, Marcus would arrive and the Enterprise would be a sitting duck with no defense against the Vengeance's superior weaponry. Once the Enterprise was out of the way, any potential Klingon threat stirred up by Khan's maneuvering could be dealt with, and Marcus would return to Earth a hero.

The com device chimed on his desk and he turned from the window to answer it.

_"Dr. Madsen is here to see you, Admiral."_

Marcus sighed. "Send him in."

Dr. Hans Madsen had been one of the lead scientists involved with the initial phases of studying Khan soon after he was extracted from the Botany Bay. Originally a medical doctor by trade, he specialized in genetics and had made it his prime goal in life to study genetic enhancements, a tough field to make progress in considering modern genetic modification had been illegal since the aftermath of the Eugenics Wars in the late twentieth century. So when Khan had come along, Madsen had leapt at the chance to study him and Marcus wasn't about to say no to putting the genius in charge.

Danish by birth, Madsen was brilliant and a little mad, with a reputation for being a smooth talker and somewhat of a pervert, but those traits weren't uncommon in people hired to work in 31. When Carol had briefly worked in 31 on the team assigned to assist Khan with his new photon torpedoes, Madsen tried to get too cozy with her and Marcus had had her reassigned to San Francisco. Since then he'd learned to keep the doctor away from a majority of the female scientists in the department. The only reason he'd kept Madsen around at all was because the doctor was always looking for the opportunity to get his hands in places most people wouldn't dare put them, and that often resulted in unexpected progress. That didn't mean he had to like the man.

Madsen walked into Marcus' office dressed in a formal medical uniform, no doubt an attempt to make a good impression, something Marcus could see right through. He didn't need to be impressed by the doctor's outward appearance to know he could do a good job.

"Admiral Marcus, thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I'm aware you'll be leaving soon to send the Vengeance on her maiden voyage."

Marcus grunted, glancing at the time. "In less than half an hour. How can I help you, doctor?"

Madsen ran his fingers through his long, slicked back blond hair and handed the Admiral his PADD. "I was going through a set of archives in the lab this morning, and I stumbled upon this bit of code. It doesn't look like much until you dig deeper into the file. It was erased, but not completely. I managed to piece it together with a bit of help from one of your associates."

Marcus gave the doctor an eyebrow and scanned over the PADD, not able to make much sense out of what he was seeing. "What am I looking at here?"

Madsen ran his finger down the list of various numbers and bits of data and moved a few of the pieces around. "These are results from a series of tests done on a blood sample taken a couple months ago."

"Khan's?"

"No, sir. That is the interesting part. The DNA is about eighty percent human, with shreds of enhancements similar to Khan's."

"What are you getting at?"

Madsen raised his blue eyes to Marcus' and the Admiral refrained from wincing at the intensity of the doctor's gaze. There was always something a little off about him, but when it came to work, his intelligence canceled out the crazy.

"I believe this blood sample came from Madelyn McGivers. I think Khan discovered something about her and that's why he pursued her for so long."

Marcus frowned and stared at the information on the PADD for another moment. He had no way of knowing whether Madsen was being truthful about this wild claim. If he was right, the consequences could be drastic, but it could also explain a few things about William McGivers that had always bothered him, like how the man had retained his youthful stamina for years after Marcus had lost his own.

"Madelyn McGivers is currently on the Enterprise, headed for Kronos," he said and Madsen nodded as though he'd already known.

"That's why I'm here, Admiral. With your permission, I'd like to be assigned to the Vengeance. With your new beaming technology, it would be a simple matter of retrieving her so I can confirm my suspicions."

Marcus handed the doctor back his PADD. "And if she doesn't turn out to be anything more than you think?"

"Then my efforts will have been in vain, but at least I won't have wasted the opportunity. However, if my suspicions do prove to be true, the scientific advancements we could make could be truly astonishing."

"That was why I let you study Khan."

Madsen nodded, acknowledging the fact that Marcus had given him almost free range of the Augment's body soon after he underwent cosmetic surgery to hide his true identity, but before he was allowed more of a free rein to begin working for 31. "This case is unique, Admiral. I've never seen results like this. They could potentially help us learn more about Augment reproduction—"

Marcus waved a hand in the air. "Yes, fine. I'll have someone call in the transfer order. Look, this wouldn't have anything to do with your benefactor, would it? That nut has been pestering me for months now."

The doctor's face grew blank. "Possibly."

Marcus made a noise that could only begin to describe his annoyance. He cared little for the games these scientists played. Glancing back at Madsen's boyish face, young looking for forty with his long hawkish nose and keen eyes, he decided there was no harm in it. Having Madelyn on his ship would only make it easier for him to be sure she was eventually disposed of.

"Is that all?"

Madsen straightened and nodded. "Thank you Admiral. I'll see you shortly."

Marcus nodded and watched him leave. Hopefully "shortly" meant something like _never again_. Glad to have the doctor temporarily out of his hair by promising him a plaything, he called for his shuttle, and finished making his last preparations to leave Earth. Time was of the essence now, and the Vengeance better have been ready by the time he arrived onboard.


	11. Kronos

_**Thank you as always to Amatista, CLTex, and Poodle warriors for your reviews and helpful critique. Having other people tell you what isn't right with your story is probably one of the best things a writer can get and I'm literally not joking.**_

* * *

**Chapter 11 - Kronos**

* * *

When they arrived on the Enterprise, Madelyn barely had a moment to take everything in. She was informed that her things would be dropped off in her assigned quarters, and then McCoy whisked her out of the hangar. She didn't even have a chance to speak with Carol, who was already busying herself with the new torpedoes onboard, torpedoes that were apparently untested and dangerous according to a mouthy technician who had now dragged Captain Kirk into a heated discussion over that very fact. Madelyn caught the word "classified" as she passed them, and once again she couldn't help but feel wary about this turn of events.

There were so many things that didn't add up. There were explanations she should have received from Admiral Marcus that had fallen by the wayside, like the fact that Marcus no longer intended to have John captured alive, but instead assassinated underneath a barrage of highly advanced and unstable torpedoes. It wasn't that Madelyn was completely against the idea. She didn't think she'd feel overly remorseful if the man she'd been sleeping with for the last couple months who'd turned out to be a terrorist was killed outside of Federation law. But the fact that he was on Kronos changed everything.

It was a horrible idea that left a bad taste in her mouth and a worse feeling in her gut, and she knew that if she'd had any sort of command position on this ship she would have done anything to stop those torpedoes from being fired.

It was almost as if Marcus was _trying_ to start a war.

All of that aside, if John wasn't going to be brought onboard the Enterprise as a prisoner, then why had Marcus insisted she remain with the mission in the first place? She was only taking up space, a non-member of Starfleet on a starship that had more than enough people onboard already taking up much needed resources.

But maybe Marcus hadn't known John was on Kronos until this morning, and had overlooked his previous requests due to the amount of stress he was certain to be under. Maybe the veiled threats he'd made to coerce her into cooperating were just that: threats, which he could've had no intention of actually following through on. That was the only way she saw this making a little more sense, but the nagging feeling persisted.

"Madelyn, I'm gonna need you to come to the medbay with me. I need to run some basic tests."

McCoy's voice tore her from her thoughts as they went down the corridor. She'd forgotten she was still with him, but nodded without a response. At this point, there was nothing else to do but go along with things and hope for the best.

The medbay was bustling with activity, doctors and nurses preparing it to be used to take on emergencies. A man in the corner in a red shirt was being patched up from an accident, but otherwise Madelyn was the only non-medical person there.

"This will be like a usual check-up," said McCoy, motioning her to the nearest medbed. "I also have to follow regulation for first-timers and take a few blood samples, just in case."

Madelyn shrugged. "It's fine. I don't mind."

Suddenly a wave of vertigo swept over her and she had to brace herself against the med bed until it passed. McCoy put a firm hand on her shoulder and instructed her to lay down. "We've just jumped to warp speed," he said. "It happens sometimes, especially if you're not used to space travel. Believe me your reaction ain't the worst I've seen."

"Well that's reassuring," Madelyn replied, giving McCoy a look as she carefully hoisted herself up onto the medbed. When McCoy began to run through a basic physical exam, the room's intercom system chimed and Captain Kirk's voice over the speakers. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to listen, and suddenly Madelyn was grateful no one in that room knew why she was on that ship.

_"Attention, crew of the Enterprise. As most of you know, Christopher Pike, former captain of this ship, and our friend, is dead. The man who killed him has fled our system and is hiding on the Klingon homeworld, somewhere he believes we are unwilling to go. We are on our way there now. Per Admiral Marcus, it's essential that our presence go undetected. Tensions between the Federation and the Klingon Empire have been high, and any provocation could lead to an all out war."_

There was a long pause. Madelyn half-hoped Kirk wouldn't follow through on the Admiral's orders and fire torpedoes on John. He had to be aware of the consequences. As Spock had pointed out earlier, an action like that would not only be immoral, but it could provoke a war that the Federation wasn't equipped to handle. At least as far as Madelyn was aware.

She knew Marcus and John had been working together to create weapons and warships to counter a threat like the Klingons, but no one else seemed to be aware of that fact and she wondered how serious John had been when he'd revealed that to her.

Suddenly she realized she no longer cared what John might have to say, and that she definitely wasn't looking forward to seeing him again should Kirk change his mind about following the Admiral's orders. It seemed that whichever direction this situation chose to take, Madelyn was going to hate it.

_"I will personally lead a landing party to an abandoned city on the surface of Kronos, where we will capture the fugitive John Harrison and return him to Earth so he can face judgment for his actions."_

Madelyn managed to let out a breath. At least they weren't going to execute him, though a little voice in her head told her that'd be much easier. So Kirk would go down and find John and arrest him and bring him back to the ship. Fine. And she would be far away until they wanted her to talk to him. And even then, maybe she could convince Kirk that she didn't need to talk to him. She wanted to forget everything about him, his face, his voice, his existence. What made them think he'd even tell her the truth now, when he hadn't before?

_"Alright, let's go get this son of a bitch. Kirk out."_

"You alright, Madelyn?"

She looked over at McCoy. He was busy preparing a syringe that would draw blood quickly from her vein through a length of tubing and deposit it into a vial for later.

"I'm fine. Just a little nervous about all of this."

When the doctor reached for her arm, she realized her fingers were wrapped tightly around the edge of the bed until her knuckles had turned white. Letting out another breath, she forced herself to relax and rolled up her sleeve so he could position the syringe on her arm.

"It wouldn't have something to do with this John Harrison guy, would it?"

She hardly felt when the microscopic needle pricked her skin. "I'd rather not talk about it," she said quietly.

"No hard feelings. But if you two had a thing, he sure pulled a fast one on you."

Madelyn glanced up at McCoy again as he removed the needle from her arm and transferred the vial full of her blood into the device to be tested. _He sure fucking did,_ she thought angrily.

She was resisting the urge to tell him everything. He was a doctor after all, so technically she _could_ tell him everything and he'd be sworn to secrecy. Glancing up at the people working nearby, she decided they weren't paying them any attention.

"The thing is I found out the same time as everyone else," she said, and McCoy glanced at her to indicate that he was listening. "He disappeared two weeks ago, and then London was bombed and Starfleet showed up at my apartment soon after with evidence that he was there. Then I get to San Francisco only to find out that he attacked an emergency meeting of Starfleet brass. I just don't know what to think anymore."

McCoy turned back to her, giving her his full attention. "I've never met the guy, but I'll say this. You'll be able to move on eventually. It won't be easy. Anything you got that reminds you of him, you'll wanna burn it all. And after that you'll wanna move halfway around the world, or maybe to another planet, but you'll move on."

Madelyn was shocked by his frankness, and realized her fingers were playing with the bit of silver hanging around her neck. It was the only thing John had ever given her, and it contained a precious photo that she wanted to last forever. She couldn't get rid of that. Nevertheless she was grateful for the McCoy's honesty. "You sound like you're speaking from experience."

"I am. She took the whole damn planet in the divorce. It's why I joined Starfleet. All I had left was my bones." He gave her a knowing look as she hopped down from the med bed. "You're all set. Unless you wanna stick around for the test results, but I can't guarantee they'll be interesting."

She offered him a smile. "That's ok. I think I'll—"

The room lurched and Madelyn was thrown backwards. She grappled for the bed to steady herself as nurses screamed around her and medical equipment was thrown across the room. The ship's skeleton seemed to be groaning, like it'd been completely thrown out of alignment. When the room steadied, people gathered their senses and busied themselves with cleaning up, returning to their work as though nothing had happened. Madelyn was shaken but none the worse for wear. A quick check revealed she was unharmed, and she waved McCoy away when he offered assistance. "What the hell was that?"

"I think we just dropped out of warp. Believe me it's not supposed to happen like that."

_"Kirk to medbay. Dr. McCoy, I need you and your patient on the bridge right away."_

Madelyn couldn't imagine why. "What?"

"That's us. You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine. Why does he want us on the bridge?"

"Beats me. Maybe we made it to Kronos early."

She felt her heart sink into her stomach, but as she followed McCoy out of the medbay, she reminded herself she could still find a way out of this.

Kirk was waiting for them on the bridge when they arrived. "Ah, Ms. McGivers—"

"Just Madelyn," she butted in.

"Madelyn, right. You're coming with me, Commander Spock, and Lieutenant Uhura to an uninhabited region of Kronos."

Madelyn only half heard him. "Captain, I really don't think—"

"Look, you're here because of Harrison, and Marcus made me bring you on this mission in the first place, so you might as well make yourself useful. Uhura, please make sure Madelyn is properly equipped and meet me in the hangar in ten minutes."

"Yes sir."

Madelyn glared at Kirk, but nonetheless followed the dark skinned Lieutenant from the bridge, not daring to speak up until they were making their way through the ship.

"I can't believe this. I can't believe he actually believes it's a good idea to send me down there."

"The captain is just doing what he feels is necessary. Have you ever used a phaser?"

Madelyn shook her head as they walked into a room stocked with weapons and tools and uniforms. Uhura gave her a once over, then pulled a black leather jacket and a gray scarf out of a locker and handed them to her to replace her more blatantly fashionable city wear. Meanwhile the lieutenant traded her red dress for a set of similarly appropriate clothing, then she pulled a phaser down from a rack on the wall and held it out so Madelyn could see it.

"Hit this to charge it. It's set to stun by default but if you want to cause some real damage, hit this," Uhura explained, showing Madelyn which buttons to press. "Whatever you do, don't point it at anyone you don't want to hurt. I'm sure you thought of that."

Madelyn took it from her carefully, testing its weight in her hand, then made sure the safety was turned on before tucking it inside her jacket. At least she had a way of defending herself if the worst happened.

She pulled her hair into a ponytail and followed Uhura through the ship. When they arrived in the main hangar, Kirk and Spock met them with two other officers. Kirk gave Madelyn a once over, nodded as though reassuring himself this was a good idea, then climbed onboard a disc-shaped ship that didn't look like something Starfleet would normally operate.

But Madelyn was too nervous to care about the specs of the ship. They were about to head for the surface of Kronos, where John was apparently hiding. Not only was she about to set foot on the Klingon homeworld, but she was going to have to face John and come to grips with his betrayal, and that was the last thing in the world she wanted.

* * *

The quiet, two-hour flight towards the surface of the planet ended abruptly when the ship shuddered violently, and Spock announced they were being pursued by a D4-class Klingon vessel. Madelyn scooted deeper into her seat, gripping the straps that held her in place, and clenched her eyes shut for the wild ride.

Barely minutes later, after her insides had been shaken up so much that she wondered if they still worked, they finally careened to a stop. Blinding spotlights penetrated the narrow viewscreen that circled the cockpit and grating Klingon warnings filled the polluted air outside. Madelyn was starting to suspect that they would never get off Kronos alive, especially when Uhura translated and informed them that when they landed, the Klingons would bring them in to be questioned and tortured, and when they were done, killed.

"So we come out shooting," said Kirk.

Uhura unbuckled herself from her seat and stood up to face the captain. "We're outnumbered, outgunned. There's no way we survive if we attack first."

"This is insane," Madelyn muttered for the hundredth time that day.

"You brought me here because I speak Klingon," said Uhura. "So let me speak Klingon."

There was a moment's hesitation from Kirk, but he agreed. Flanked by Klingon Birds-of-Prey, they landed their ship in a clearing between monstrous, decrepit buildings. Uhura went out alone into the dirty air, leaving the rest of them to watch and wait. Maybe Kirk hoped Uhura could convince the Klingons they were only there to catch a criminal, and though Madelyn didn't know too much about Klingons, she was aware that they were a proud people who valued honor, respect, and conquest above everything else.

"This isn't gonna work," said Kirk, once Uhura had made her presence known to a party of approaching Klingon warriors.

"It is our only logical option," Spock replied. "And if you interrupt her now, you will not only incur the wrath of the Klingons, but that of Lieutenant Uhura as well."

The way he said it made Madelyn wonder briefly if there was something going on between Uhura and Spock, but she didn't dwell on it. Crouching beside Kirk and Spock in the cockpit, she watched Uhura through the viewscreen as she stood confidently in front of a large group of well-armed Klingon warriors.

Madelyn could feel her phaser's cold metal in her jacket through her shirt, and knew that if she needed to use it she was already screwed. Despite the position he'd allowed Lieutenant Uhura to walk into, Kirk had already passed phasers out to his men as though he was expecting the worse, and now they waited with baited breath for a reaction. They had no way of knowing what Uhura was saying, but the moment her face was snatched up in the large hand of one of the warriors and she was lifted off her feet, everything went downhill.

A sudden blast of weapons fire from an unknown assailant distracted the Klingons long enough for Uhura to get away, and Madelyn had little time to react as Spock, Kirk, and the other two men launched out from the ship to provide cover fire. Watching the carnage from inside the relative safety of the ship's cockpit, Madelyn caught a glimpse of Uhura as she stabbed her assailant in the groin with his own knife, then rolled out of the way for cover.

The clearing became a battlefield. Madelyn slid her hand inside her jacket to feel for her phaser. With any luck, she could hide in here for as long as the Klingons were in the area, until Kirk and his people had gotten rid of the initial threat. By then the Klingons would probably call for reinforcements, but it would give them enough time to get out. This thought quickly slipped away as two Klingon warbirds soared overhead, reinforcements swinging down on long cables and brandishing jagged bat'leths and phaser rifles. Then in the distance, on a raised ledge that would have offered anyone a clear view of the entire area, she caught a glimpse of the source of weapons fire that had started all this.

It was one man, dressed in a long, black leather coat, his face obscured by a hood. He wielded what looked like an enormous phaser cannon that should have been mounted on a ship, way too large for him to be swinging around so easily, and in his other hand he deftly maneuvered a phaser rifle. Within moments, he'd slaughtered well over a dozen ground troops and crashed a Klingon warbird with a single blast of his cannon.

After a minute of watching the man, in awe of the ease in which he moved, Madelyn realized she'd lost sight of Kirk, Spock, and Uhura. The other two lieutenants' bodies lay on the ground about fifty yards away, and several Klingon soldiers were closing in on her position within the ship. She swallowed, eyes flitting from the Klingons to the hooded man with his massive cannon, still sending out a steady rain of weapons fire and hitting his targets every single time. More reinforcements arrived from the air, but he quickly took them out.

Suddenly she caught sight of Kirk, on the ground with his neck beneath a Klingon boot, looking barely conscious. Almost as soon as she realized what was happening, the Klingon owner of the boot was hit with a phaser cannon blast that severed his legs from his torso. Kirk rolled over just as Spock and Uhura appeared and half-dragged him away out of the fray.

Meanwhile, the Klingons that had been converging on the ship had turned and were now focusing their efforts on the man Madelyn was quickly suspecting to be John, despite the way he was easily killing Klingon after Klingon. John or not, his cannon had cleared a large gap between the ship and the building where Kirk and the others were crouched and Madelyn knew she could make it if she went now. They needed to get back to the ship safely, and it looked like she was the only one with a weapon now.

She pulled her phaser from her jacket and turned the setting up so that any blasts that managed to hit their target would actually do damage. As she headed for the ship's door, she heard the crash and subsequent explosion of another warbird biting the dust, but stopped in her tracks before she reached the doorway. One Klingon blocked her path, no doubt guarding the ship to prevent escape, but his back was turned and he hadn't seen her yet.

Madelyn swallowed and muttered to herself once again how ridiculous this day was becoming, then raised her phaser and without hesitation sent three strong blasts into the Klingon's back. He stumbled forward, but somehow managed to withstand the weapon's effects. Wheeling around with an angry growl, he spotted her and raised his multi-pronged weapons until they glinted in the dirty light. Madelyn backed a few feet into the ship and sent another series of blasts into him, imagining the metallic bite those weapons could give her. He continued towards her until he'd stepped inside the ship, but she kept firing, her heart pounding in her chest with each step closer he got. She could see the blue of his eyes inside his mask and suddenly aimed her phaser higher. The blast seared his helmet and he collapsed in the doorway.

Adrenaline coursing through her, Madelyn rushed forward, using all of her strength to push the Klingon's motionless body out of her way so she could get to the others. As she ran from the ship, the man with the phaser cannon shot another sweeping blast that took out five Klingon warriors. Then he dropped the cannon with a heavy thunk and pulled the hood from his face before leaping down some thirty feet from the ledge, taking out another Klingon with his phaser rifle in the process.

John. That was definitely John. Madelyn could barely contain her shock. Despite his hood and the long black coat that obscured the rest of him, she knew his face anywhere. But she'd never seen him like this, easily destroying Klingon after Klingon and wielding weapons twice his size without difficulty. And if he'd come here to hide from the Federation after committing acts of terror, why the hell was he helping them now?

She choked on the air as she got closer to where the others were huddled and covered her mouth to avoid breathing in larger particles, watching shocked as John continued to take out warrior after Klingon warrior with nothing but a dagger, his fists, and some well-placed kicks. She still gripped her phaser in her other hand, which she quickly realized she could use on John if Kirk and the others had lost theirs in the fight.

When she careened to a stop beside them, Kirk pulled her down into the shadows. John threw a dagger into the face of the final Klingon still standing, and then retrieved a rifle from the ground and stormed towards them.

"Stand down," said Spock, raising his rifle.

John advanced on them, ripping off his hood to reveal his dirt-streaked face and tangled, greasy hair. "How many torpedoes?"

Madelyn tightened her fingers around her phaser.

"Stand down!" Spock repeated.

John shot the rifle out of Spock's grip in an explosion of light. "The torpedoes!" he roared. "The weapons you threatened me with in your message! How many are there?"

Changing her mind, Madelyn slid her phaser carefully back into her jacket, but John had seen. He caught her gaze with narrowed eyes, but made no motion to attack. She was terrified he was going to kill them all. His hair half obscured his face, and his keen eyes were wild. He looked primed to explode. And who cared _how many_ torpedoes there were? One would have decimated a hundred square feet of that wasted planet.

"Seventy-two," Spock replied, snagging all of their attentions.

John stared at the Vulcan with widening eyes, as though he'd just received startling news.

_Yeah, seventy-two torpedoes is a hell of a lot of weapons to have pointed at you,_ thought Madelyn. _I'd be shocked too._

John looked back at the rest of them, his shocked expression retreating until it was replaced with utter calm, then he threw his rifle to the ground. "I surrender."

After all of that, after bombing London, attacking Starfleet's own headquarters, escaping to Kronos, and then killing every Klingon within fifty miles just to ask how many torpedoes the Enterprise was pointing at him? Madelyn couldn't understand why, but she knew he deserved to have her phaser shoved in his face, or elsewhere. She just didn't have to guts to do it.

Despite her initial fear, she couldn't take her eyes off of him. His hot-blooded demeanor had cooled and now he stood there composed and weaponless, the broad shoulders of his leather coat making him seem even more aggressive. She wasn't even sure this was the same person she'd been with just weeks ago, but when he looked in her direction again, she caught a familiar look in his eye and met his gaze indignantly.

Spock retrieved a rifle from the ground again and aimed it at John, while Kirk slowly rose to his feet, groaning all the while.

"On behalf of Christopher Pike, my friend," Kirk said slowly, "I accept your surrender."

Madelyn swore she saw the beginnings of a smile materialize on John's face, until Kirk whirled around and swung a fist square into his jaw.

She started to react, despite her misgivings, but stopped when she realized John looked barely affected by the blow. He eyed Kirk with indifference, until the captain swung his other fist and connected with the opposite side of his face. John's body followed the momentum, but again he didn't show signs of pain, only disgust.

A third punch made Kirk groan, but John didn't fight back. Madelyn couldn't understand why he hadn't at least started bleeding. Those blows should have knocked out his teeth.

With rising anger, Kirk slammed his fist up into John's gut. The latter stumbled backwards, going with the momentum again, but he didn't lose his breath. He stared at Kirk with an unsettling look, even when Kirk drove his knee up into the exact same spot in his stomach, and then grabbed a fistful of black hair and pummeled his face with bleeding knuckles.

"Captain!" Uhura yelled. They could all see that Kirk's efforts were only causing himself more harm, and yet somehow, after battling dozens of Klingons and failing to be beaten up, John didn't appear to sport a single scratch. It didn't make any sense.

What Madelyn did see was growing anger. John's hands in their fingerless gloves had curled into tight fists and she could tell that he wanted to give Kirk a taste of his own medicine, but he hadn't. He'd surrendered after all, and Kirk never should have attacked him. But why wasn't John _hurt_?

Gasping with exhaustion, Kirk finally let up and backed off, leaning over with his battered hands on his knees. After a moment he straightened to meet John's eyes, receiving a fascinated look that sent a shiver down Madelyn's spine.

A faint smirk graced John's lips. "Captain…" he murmured, sounding surprised.

Kirk held his stare for what felt like an eternity before finally turning away, looking utterly defeated and as confused as the rest of them. "Cuff him," he rasped, and trudged past them for the ship.

Spock quickly went forward and slammed a set of heavy cuffs around John's wrists, but Madelyn hardly noticed. She was trapped in John's gaze, as though he hadn't noticed she was there until now and was trying to figure out what she was doing there in the first place.

Feeling Uhura's hand on her arm, she turned away and hurried towards the ship before John had a chance to say anything to her. Not that she was expecting he would. Kirk glanced up from the cockpit, but his gaze shifted from her to the people behind her. She quickly settled into her seat and focused on strapping herself in, but paused when a heavy set of boots stopped in front of her, their owner settling into the seat across from her. She gritted her teeth and slowly raised her face until her gaze was even with his.

She wanted to hit him. She wanted to get up in his face and demand to know everything, to know why he had done what he had, but she knew that wouldn't accomplish anything, not if Kirk's attempts had been any indication. She'd never thought John to be some kind of impenetrable war machine, but she'd seen what he was capable of and wasn't about to provoke him, even if he was in cuffs. Besides, when she really considered it, she didn't want to be closer to him than she already was, belted into a seat facing him with their knees just a couple feet apart.

They left the surface of Kronos without incident, but the longer Madelyn looked at John, the more it hurt, and the sicker she felt. He must have thought it was amusing to have her in front of him this whole time, because the corner of his mouth had lifted into a smirk that was making her very uncomfortable. Uhura and Spock sat close by with weapons trained on him, but it made little difference to Madelyn when all John had to do to make her squirm was keep looking at her. The worst part was she knew he wasn't going to say anything to alleviate the tension, not while the others were there. He would probably sit there silently for the two hours it would take them to return to the Enterprise, watching her, eyes flitting over her every time she moved or shifted or did anything.

She wanted to melt into her seat so he couldn't see her. She wanted him to say_ something_, at least to break the silence with a biting remark, and to rid herself of the angry questions flying through her head. Instead, it was all she could do to breathe normally while trapped in his sights.

The only thing she knew for sure now was that he was dangerous, and that as soon as he was put into Federation custody, she never wanted to see him again.

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_**Please, please leave a review if you feel inclined to. I just like to know that this story is being read and that you enjoyed it! Okthxbye.**_


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